


Twists and Turns

by EvoFTG



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alpha Link, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Artistic License, Because I've never seen it yet, Eventual Sidlink, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Riju/Zelda can be platonic or romantic, Selectively Mute Link, So many handwave, Weird Biology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-01-09 20:19:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12283680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvoFTG/pseuds/EvoFTG
Summary: Link has so many missing memories since his awakening that he should be immune to surprises by now. Or so he thought. The Gerudo begs to differ, and Link just gets more curious after that.What exactly is an Alpha, or a Beta, or an Omega?





	1. A Little Surprise

“Princess Zelda,” Riju says with sternness that matches her piercing gaze, “For your sake and mine, I hope that this is a sin of ignorance on your part, and not one of arrogance.”

Zelda betrays little in her body language but the knight recognizes the straightness in her back that speaks of great anxiety – a little detail that should not have been apparent in their brief re-acquaintance post-Calamity but which Link is nevertheless familiar as deeply slumbering memories stir to consciousness. 

“I assure you, Honoured Chief, that whatever that may upset you is not intended. Please forgive our lack of knowledge and tell us what is the issue; we’ll work on remedying that.” Her hands – small and fair-skinned like the rest of her, but rough from her arduous practices to unlock her powers – are balled at her sides. This too is another sign of her unease, but looking past her shoulder at the form of the Gerudo Chief, smaller still than her guests and radiating calm authority as she sits in her throne, Link does not sense an immediate need for caution. 

Still, Link has his fair share of surprises and prepares himself accordingly. Though he does not expect its service here, the Master Sword is nevertheless a solid and comforting weight on his back. 

Riju raises one elegant hand and points; her gesture lands smack in Link’s direction whose instinct is now awakened at the unexpected focus. 

“But I have informed you beforehand,” Zelda says, following Riju’s beckoning finger and finding that Link is the apparently offending subject despite her earnest efforts to prevent it. “Link is a Royal Knight and the Hero of Hyrule. I am aware of the Gerudo restrictions, but surely a man – a _voe_ – of his calibre is tolerated within your walls?” 

“I am aware of that, Princess Zelda. But do you know what he is?” 

“I assure you, Link is the most trustworthy person –” 

“Not _who_ , Princess. _What._ ” 

For a few seconds, the young chieftain exchanges a glance with her personal guard that Link suspects conveying far more than their brief eye-contact suggests. Riju nods, a curt and calculated movement, and looks back at the waiting Hylians in front of her. 

“I implore you to keep what I am about to say only to yourself. We have our reasons for the secrecy and very few people outside of Gerudo are aware of. A handful of Sheikah – scholars, researches, philosophers; all _vai,_ of course – come to dwell among us to study us over the years before the rise of Calamity Ganon. We have our own words for it but since we do not share it with outsiders, I will use the Sheikah terms for your understanding.” 

“I’m all ears, Lady Riju.” This time, Zelda dares to catch Link’s eyes; she looks uncertain and not a little confused. Though feeling exactly that himself, Link finds that he easily sympathizes her state – when it comes to being thrust into an unknown territory, Link has become quite the master in the art of going with the flow after being awakened from the restorative slumber with not even a name to himself. 

“It is not apparent when he came to aid us in pacifying Vah Naboris, but now, I’m almost certain of it. I cannot tell for certain why this is so for a Hylian… but Link – to borrow the Sheikah names – is an Alpha _voe._ ” 

Well, last time he checks, Link is certain that he is a male (with a mighty self-control he manages to stop himself from groping the front of his trousers, just to confirm). But an Alpha…? 

In front of him, Zelda looks similarly at loss. “… I’m not sure I understand that, Lady Riju.” 

Riju eyes her carefully, making no pretence that she is doing so to determine whether Zelda’s obliviousness is genuine or not. Link doesn’t sure what exactly that assures her (probably that big doll eyes of hers; it’s really difficult to refuse/doubt a set of eyes that look at you with the apparent innocence of a fawn), but in the end, Riju says, “I see. Even those Sheikah terms are unfamiliar to you; I’m afraid this is all a matter of misunderstanding.” 

She waves her dainty hand in a vague gesture, jangling her golden bracelets with the motion; apparently she has never faced with a scenario that requires her explanation on this particular topic. “Simply put, the Gerudo is not only divided between _vai_ and the very rarely-born _voe_ ; each of us may also be either an Alpha, a Beta or an Omega. Link has a scent of an Alpha upon him – faint, but it is there.” 

Buliara starts, “Lady Riju –” 

“At ease, Buliara. They deserve explanation so that there may not be similar confusion in the future. In older times, the Gerudo lived in separate clans and led by their respective chieftains. In those ages, to bring Alphas as personal guards in front of another head of the clan is considered a challenge to local leadership. Now, it’s not usually a matter of concern with the other races, which is why we don’t bother telling about it – until now.” 

Needless to say, Link does not understand nearly half of what the Gerudo Chief is saying. Needless to say also, Link is curious, perhaps far more than he should be about what that actually means to the Gerudo and how it affects him as a Hylian. 

“Lady Riju, you’ve mentioned that Link doesn’t… smell like this – this Alpha _voe_ during his previous visit. What could’ve been different between then and now?” 

Silently, Link is grateful that his inquisitiveness and hers aligns enough to prompt her asking, becoming his unintentional mouthpiece in the process. He is having enough difficulties as it is to make himself heard in normal situations, and speaking with his hands can only get him so far among the Gerudo, most of whom have never been exposed to sign language. 

“For us Gerudo, it doesn’t become apparent until we come of age. Usually, it involves a… certain awakening or a _strong feeling_. But who can say for sure with a Hylian?” Zelda’s body goes through another momentary stiffness before she forces herself to relax. Her cheeks, from what Link is able to glimpse of them from this unhelpful angle, are dusted a soft shade of pink. 

Unfortunately, instead of continuing on the topic, Riju – who appears rather indifferent where Zelda is struggling with her emotions – says, “No need to worry, Princess. I understand that it’s only an unlucky coincidence. Now that we’ve gotten the issue out of the way, let us return to the matter at hand.” 

“Vah Naboris,” Zelda supplies automatically, nodding; her composure quickly reforming as she returns to familiar ground where her reading and studies can be relied upon. 

Link successfully suppresses an urge to call out with _Can we get back to this Alpha thingy?_ and stays patiently mum as the two women begins to go over what information that is available to them on the camel-like Divine Beast, including recent notes by the Gerudo Guardswomen who have been tasked to keep an eye out on Vah Naboris. Like Vah Ruta of the Zora, Vah Medoh in the Rito Village, and Vah Rudania perched atop Death Mountain, Vah Naboris has entered a state of inactivity after unleashing their combined attacks during the momentous battle with Calamity Ganon, causing concerns for the surrounding inhabitants should they turn against the people yet again. To this, Zelda is quick to offer her opinion – that the blue lighting on their bodies instead of the red-purple tinges characteristic of Ganon’s corruption is indicative that the Divine Beasts remain benign, only dormant due to the demise of their respective Champions. 

A new Champion should be considered, Zelda continues, saying that sealing the Divine Beasts away will be detrimental in the long run, in the same way that revoking the Divine Beasts for their service with limited knowledge of their operations are exactly the kind of oversight that enables their hijacking by the Scourge of Hyrule. More researches must be undertaken to fill the gap in their knowledge, she argues, and Champions are the only means of reliable connection with these massive Sheikah machines. Destroying them will be worse still than ignoring them altogether for many reasons – from the impracticality and massive resources required to even attempt battling the beasts which so far has proved futile, the loss of invaluable ancient knowledge and information, to the simple fact that in the end, the purified Divine Beasts prove themselves instrumental in Calamity Ganon’s defeat. 

These are the points that Link has heard from Zelda numerous times, initially as she rehearsed her speech to Link alone as they journeyed forth from Hyrule Castle, then in front of King Dorephan and the Royal Council in Zora’s Domain – the first race of the Champions whom he and Zelda formally visited after the fall of Calamity Ganon. Although he understands her reasoning and hopes that her pleas will be heard, he is also sympathetic to the reluctance showed by the Zora people, especially from the older individuals who have had to suffer the grief of losing their beloved princess. 

He particularly could not bear looking at Mipha’s father who has outlived her young daughter, and Prince Sidon whose sorrow Link could sense lurking underneath his energetic persona. And yet, he and Zelda returned to them with such devastating announcement – to ask for a new pilot of the Divine Beast among their numbers, as Mipha had once been chosen to shoulder the very task that would be her end… 

In the end, the Zoras could give little but a promise to try as best as they could, and requested to be given the time to prepare themselves for a new Champion. What is not said, yet understood by everyone in the king's throne room, is that they are not ready to offer another Zoran life to what amounts to sacrifice to them. Unlike other short-living races, the rise of Calamity Ganon and the fall of the Champions is not a story passed down from one generation to the next. The pain of 100 years ago is close to their hearts now as it was then. 

He’d failed them all, and still he dared to ask them to give more… 

Link is shaken out of his brief reverie by soft yet firm announcement spoken in Riju’s voice. 

“Princess Zelda, I understand your concerns and I think that the benefits will outweigh the risks in the long run,” Riju says after what must be a length consideration, considering how deeply Link has drifted off in his thoughts. “But it’s not too long ago that Vah Naboris threatened to bury us under the desert sand and scorch us with its lightning. I cannot ask my people to risk themselves entering the Divine Beast without being involved in it myself.” 

“Lady Riju –” Buliara starts to say but clamps her mouth shut when Riju lifts up a hand meaningfully. 

“I will follow you into Vah Naboris and see if I’m worthy enough to be its new Champion. When do you suggest we start with the trial?” 

Link has to stop himself from reacting with obvious relief. This goes way better and easier than with the Zora. Though he cannot see it from where he is standing, Zelda’s eyes must have lit up as much as Buliara’s worried frown deepens when she replies, “Tomorrow morning, if that’s alright with you.” 

“Tomorrow morning, it is. We shall meet at the South Outpost at the first light.” The way she says it hints of finality to today’s encounter, so Zelda and Link are prepared to retire from the audition with the Gerudo Chief when she says, “Wait, if you please. I think this is something Link is going to need if he is to stay in the town.” 

A wave of her hand brings in a Gerudo attendant from a side-entrance neither Link or Zelda pays too much attention before this. She carries a gilded tray with a glass vial set on it, containing golden liquid that looks very much like an elixir. The servant girl prostrates before Link and Zelda gracefully, the tray held aloft in offering to the Hylians. 

Riju says, “Please accept this gift. The perfume can help mask the scent of a prime Alpha. And though I welcome all of you into Gerudo Town, I ask you, Link, to continue disguising yourself as a _vai_ within our walls. You may shed your disguise in Princess Zelda’s company, but other times it is wiser to continue your _vai_ cover in this town. I mean no disrespect with this, especially to someone who has helped save us from a great evil, but it’s a matter of precaution.” 

Link takes the glass-vial without understanding fully what Riju is alluding to, only that being an ‘Alpha man’, whatever that is, seems to be more troubles than its worth. Not that he minds the traditional Gerudo _vai_ garb that he has purchased from Vilia; it is very comfortable to wear especially in desert environment and admittedly cute-looking that he might have been running around Hyrule in it if not for practical reasons – but what’s with all the extra measures now because of the extra ‘Alpha’ tag? 

On the other hand, Link cannot deny that his curiousity is now greatly, irreversibly roused. What exactly that needs preventing that requires this so-called ‘precaution’? 

He and Zelda retreat to their designated guest quarters adjoining the pavilion housing the throne room. The Gerudo have prepared for them separate rooms for their uses and privacy, which both of them are thankful for. On the bed in Link’s room is a fresh Gerudo outfit with a note attached that declares it being a gift for his convenience during his stay; he re-folds the small papyrus-paper and slips it into the pocket of his Hylian breech. The clothing which he spreads out on the bed turns out to be a Gerudo _voe_ armours, much to his surprise. He recognizes them from similar outfits in display in the Gerudo Secret Club, though he has been warned by the shopkeeper Greta that male-based clothes are still prohibited even if they are a Gerudo _voe_ set. 

Perhaps he is allowed a little freedom when acting as Zelda’s escort on an official business, in which case the armours – headband, spaulder and trousers – make sense in this instance. Besides, it does feel a little strange if he is given a _vai_ set as formal presents when he is normally considered a man. 

“Um, Link…” 

Zelda’s voice and the timid knocking from outside the door catches his attention. Immediately he gets to the door, whereupon opening it reveals the princess standing just outside of it and clad in a full traditional Gerudo clothing. However, where Link’s own is greenish turquoise as its theme, Zelda’s are made from sky-blue fabrics which make up the scarves and the veil, while the _sirwal_ is white in colour and patterned with red symbols. Carefully, Zelda removes the veil partially to expose her face marred with anxious frown and says, “How… do I look? And for Hylia’s sake, _don’t you dare laugh._ ” 

Instead of saying something, he signs with his hand deftly, _-You wear it better than me, that’s for sure.-_

She chuckles at the reminder, knowing that Link has been forced to clothe himself like a Gerudo girl in his quest to appease Vah Naboris. However, she still looks understandably awkward in the skin-exposing outfit compared to her usual Hylian clothing. In all honesty, she looks beautiful in the Gerudo set, which is a little different and having more ornamental bits attached to it – metallic highlights, golden embroidery, tiny gemstones and decorative beads accentuate the elegance of the wearer nicely. 

“Do you think I’m expected to wear this to Vah Naboris?” 

He signs, _-It’s up to you. But they’re very helpful against the desert’s heat.-_

“Hmm.” She shuts the door, which Link does not bother to mention that it’s his room’s door, and from somewhere on the other side of the wall, he hears the click of another door closing. He waits for a while, humming a carefree tune as he does while listening to the indeterminate sounds of swishes and swooshes of shifting fabric and the clinks of metallic parts. In a few minutes, he hears the sound of opening door, followed quickly by the knocking on his. 

He opens the door dutifully. Zelda is back and in her usual Hylian riding clothes: The Champion-blue top, quilted white-and-gold blouse, a pair of riding breeches and knee-high leather boots. 

“Maybe I should wear it. If nothing else, it’ll show respect to their tradition and my thanks for her gift.” She looks around in his room and notices the conspicuous armours still haphazardly displayed on his bed. “Are you going to wear those tomorrow?” 

He shrugs. They have similar breathable, airy designs that characterize the _vai_ cloth pieces, though he has stocked up on a number of heat-resistant elixirs and hydromelons if he decides to go around in his other clothes. In fact, that is how he and Zelda manages to traverse the Gerudo Desert in the first place without the appropriate attires, plus the sand boots to help them walk without sinking into the soft sand with every step. As it turns out, with Granté’s help in Tarrey Town and Link’s own sand boots as models, an unknown contact of Granté has managed to replicate an extra pair for Zelda’s use – with a steep price, of course, but Link is in a hurry as it is to care about his Rupees. 

Speaking of appropriate attires, Link is certain that he can get away with masculine ones tomorrow as long as he associates himself with Zelda – the whole town has been informed of the visit from the Hyrule Princess and her appointed knight. However, Riju’s pointed gift of the supposedly scent-masking perfume leaves him a little bit at a loss. Is he expected to wear it, with or without his _vai_ apparels, whether or not Zelda is present, night and day? At what amount? How long does it last? Does he smell _that_ bad, by the way? He’s gone a few days without baths before, sure, and it’s not unexpected considering his adventuring ways, but he has standards to maintain in the presence of a royalty… Two of them, in fact. 

He fishes out the stoppered glass vial from his pocket and shows it to Zelda, signing, _-How should I use this?-_

“I’m not sure,” Zelda says after examining the bottled perfume with eyes as critical as when she was figuring out the Sheikah Slate for the first time. “There’s not much in it, so maybe a dab or two per day?” 

_-Anyway, do you have any idea about this...-_ Link struggles with the foreign term, which is not provided in sign languages as far as he learnt, and resorts to letter-by-letter spelling, _-...A-L-P-H-A male thing?-_

It’s not that he can’t talk per se, but most of the time verbal speech is something that comes with too much efforts on his part. Link has no idea why this is a thing – He doesn’t have enough memories of his past life to decide whether he is born with it, or if this is something he develops over time, or even if there is a trigger that starts this problem. The one thing that stands out to him is that despite awakening from his long slumber with very little sense of identity, the sign language comes to him effortlessly when he first struggled to speak to some of the earliest Travellers he came across since stepping out of the Shrine of Resurrection. It had stressed and confused him greatly, since up until then he had talked with the lingering ghost of the King of Hyrule – both when he was disguised as an old man and later when he revealed his true self – with considerable ease. 

Good thing that Zelda is similarly fluent with his signage. She takes a second to interpret that Link is spelling the word out, but that is the only hitch she encounters before saying, “Link, my guess is as good as yours. I’ve never heard of this Alpha-Beta-Omega subject. I mean, I have – some tomes on language scripts give them as names for alphabets – but not as individual titles. In fact, the way Lady Riju said it, it sounds like a social grouping… or secondary genders. This is quite fascinating, Link! The Gerudo comprise mainly of women; can it be that this is some form of compensation, or explanation, for the lack of men in their race?” 

Something deep inside him stirs in protest, though Link forces himself to ignore the creeping sense of shame that threatens to colour his cheeks pinker than they already are. _-What? Like I’m not really a man?-_

“I think it’s that you’re _more_ than a man… An Alpha man… although I have no idea what she means by that.” Zelda blushes and giggles, having just realized a certain tinge of innuendo to it. To be honest, Link has a suspicion that they are unknowingly breezing through innuendo and straight into explicit lewdness if a Gerudo happens to hear them. 

That may give additional reasons why Riju is reluctant to talk more about it, despite her composure. He also realizes that he probably shouldn’t be prying more about this, but his curiosity has reached that point of insatiability that will not let him rest in peace. If he is going to die right now, he may linger on as spirit until he figures things out – or Zelda does. She’s always the one to bury herself in stacks of books and scrolls higher than herself until she finds the information she is looking for. She would have drowned in papery depths if the King hadn’t constantly stopped her self-imposed, hermitic studies and had her meditating to unlock her holy sealing powers… 

Ouch. Too soon. 

_-Did she ever say anything about this?-_ Link signs quickly – hoping to distract himself and digging for possible hints while at it – and snaps his fingers in a manner reminiscent of a technique of a particular Gerudo Champion, familiar to both of them. Said Champion was more than a mentor to the princess, being something of a parental or sisterly figure to the orphaned Zelda who only has his strict father until then. Perhaps she has imparted some relevant knowledge to the princess during the many hours they used to spend conversing, filling the quiet hours upon Vah Naboris’ altar while looking at the Gerudo Desert’s star-lit night sky. 

“Lady Urbosa?” Zelda opens her mouth, loses herself in thoughts for a five seconds, then says, “No, I don’t think so. I would’ve remembered or searched through the Great Library long ago and we won’t be having this discussion in the present day.” 

He nods his acknowledgement, but it doesn’t solve his questions in the slightest. He _has_ to know. 

Zelda looks at him; stares at him with her big blue eyes narrowed like an Islander Hawk on the hunt, and he is the designated Hearty Bass chosen as a prey. 

“Link? I know that look. For goddess’ sake, don’t you go walking around the town and asking other Gerudo about it. Lady Riju said to keep it a secret, don’t you remember? Did you even _listen?_ ” 

The longer she talks, the shriller her voice becomes to the point of Link worrying that she may be heard beyond their quarters’ walls, though thankfully she stops before it can get past that point. He knows the signs – she is just very, very worried of her future prospect, in this case upsetting the Gerudo to the point of Riju revoking her generous acceptance of Zelda’s suggestions. He almost feels guilty, _almost_ being the word here – of course asking around the Gerudo citizens are going to land them in troubles, but Vilia is not a Gerudo though she is a self-identified Hylian _vai_ who wants really badly to become a Gerudo regardless of her birth circumstances. She tans under the hot desert sun; she dyes her hair a lush Gerudo red; and he has never ever seen her in an outfit that does not scream the desert race she has come to fall madly in love with, so to speak. 

She has many of these outfits, too. Pink, blue, red, green, rainbows; you name it, she got them if you have 600 Rupees to spare. And if you don’t happen to hurt her feelings, of course. That said, she is a good company and, as Link slowly finds out through his brief stay in the Gerudo Town following the conclusion to Vah Naboris’ crisis, is an all-around good and cheerful friend to have around. It is a blessing in the Calamity-ravaged land that fears for every second that Ganon will escape and lays waste to what is left of it. 

He mentions the name to Zelda, who has been made aware of her involvement in his quest. She tightens her lips until their pinkness fades, bloodless from the pressure, her narrowed eyes narrowing further to a squint. 

“I’m not comfortable with it, but I understand.” And knowing her, she really does; it’s why she had continued her researches on Guardians and ancient technology despite her father’s forbiddance. “I trust you not to be careless. Or tactless.” 

He nods, which is as good as a promise, coming from him. 

By the time it takes for water to boil on a campfire, Link has dressed himself like Vilia’s twin and discreetly slips out from the guest quarters. Zelda neither sees nor hear the figure in silk that slips out into the town under the waning sunlight. 

*** * * * ***

“Oh, it’s _you_ , my pretty Haylian _vai! Sav'aaq!”_ Vilia cheers at the first sight of a blue-eyed blond approaching her as she stands atop the building of Kara Kara Bazaar. 

Link makes no effort to correct her; the address is a choice deliberately made by Vilia in full knowledge of Link’s gender identity. At first, he thought it would help with his _vai_ disguise and so let Vilia be; then, as he roamed the streets of Gerudo Town, he has a suspicion that he can get past even if he is a known _voe_ as long as he dons the right clothing, by which time crossdressing becomes a sort of entertainment – especially in seeing the men camping outside of the walls hoping to sneak in the town react differently to him without knowing that the Hylian man he has just met is the same underneath the _vai_ veil. 

Link waves back at her and finds himself crushed in Vilia’s hug once he has come close within her arms’ range. 

“My, my; you’re taking good care of the dress, I see! And you look as cute as ever!” 

He’s still unsure if there’s a rule of thumb as to his speechlessness – some days, he may find himself speaking with no problem, though he’s never that chatty to begin with; other time, it feels like his voice simply doesn’t want to come out. It’s a little annoying, to be honest, but he’s quickly learned to live with his conditions. Vilia is one of the few people that he is sometimes able to talk to verbally, although it’s not as common as he would’ve liked. 

At the moment, the feeling like his throat has been tightened with a string means that he’s better off with his hand rather than his mouth. 

_-It’s good to see you too,-_ Link signs, blushing despite himself under the cover of the Gerudo veil. It feels strange hearing her compliments – strange, but not uncomfortable. In fact, he’ll go so far as to say that he doesn’t dislike it. 

“So? How’s the world-saving been getting along?” 

In addition to his gender, Vilia is probably the only civilian in Gerudo Town is actually aware that the man under the _vai_ clothing is the so-called Hero of Hyrule. However, as much as Link is usually indifferent to Vilia’s penchant for gossiping – which he can guess very well is imminent, with the tone she is using – he has a more pressing question to ask. 

_-It’s okay, I guess,-_ he signs, then cutting through before Vilia can launch into full-blown tittle-tattling, he quickly signs, _-I need you to tell me about something.-_

Vilia looks understandably baffled at his urgency as Link rummages through the pocket of his baggy _sirwal_ and fishes out the clear glass-vial gifted by Riju. Vilia peers closer at it, her face contorting in thoughts – she must have recognized the certain perfume-ness about it and yet sensed that there is more to the ember-coloured perfume contained within. Link hands it over when Vilia asks for it, subjecting the vial to an intense scrutiny and, after a few minutes, she daintily slips it under her veil and gives it a brisk whiff. 

“It’s a perfume, alright,” she says, her brows furrowing as she takes another sniff. “Cool Safflina, maybe? There’s hint of Monster Parts in it, though, so it’s probably an elixir too.” 

“Huh?” Link doesn’t even realize that he’s making a sound, being too engrossed in his thoughts. So, he signs again, _-What do you think?-_

He has concocted a number of elixirs on his own, being one of tricks when he lives out in the monster-infected wilderness that needs various enhancement to ensure his survival. However, he has never come up with anything like this or knows of elixirs that doubles as perfume. Despite the horrible tastes of some of them, elixirs usually meant to be consumed. 

“I think I’ve seen something like this before. I know who might help answer some of your questions.” She sees the frown emerging on Link’s face where it is not covered by the veil, and adds quickly, “Don’t worry. I know when something is meant to be a secret – and so does ‘she’.” 

Link tilts his head, his brows furrowing deeper. He’s all about solving puzzles and taking risks, but Vilia is being frustratingly (and deliberately) mysterious. However, his curiousity is too strong to deny by now, so when Vilia tugs at his hand, he knows he is already too far gone and follows after her without protests. From Kara Kara Bazaar, they make the short trip back to Gerudo Town (and fending off unwanted advances from hopeful boys outside the walls). Vilia leads him through one of the side alleyways between the town’s buildings until they stand outside a nondescript yet familiar wooden door. 

Vilia’s secrecy makes perfect sense now; what else would one expect from a joint named the Gerudo Secret Club? 

_-I’ve been here,-_ Link signs when Vilia turns around, perhaps intending to give some introduction to the establishment. 

“Perfect! That’ll make things easier!” She raps on the door and waits for a response, which comes a few seconds later. 

There must be a peep-hole of some sort somewhere, because Greta’s voice from the other side of the door is saying, “Oh, it’s you two. Come in then.” 

After another brief waiting filled with clanging sounds of door unlocking, Vilia pushes through and into the darker interior of the Gerudo Secret Club. Following after her, Link shuts the door behind him, depriving the space of the bright sunlight. In here, there are no windows and the only lighting comes from the burning torches on the wall, lending the space a sense of stuffiness and ‘heavy’ warmth that is not to be found anywhere else in the town. For Link who is used to open space and ever-changing weathers, the shop always makes him uneasy and twitchy. 

_“Sav'saaba._ How can I help you today?” Greta the shop-owner says from behind the counter. 

Link looks around the shop, playing a mental spot-the-difference between his last visit and now. The stands used to display the Radiant armour set are still empty since Link has previously bought them on pure, admittedly childish whims. For being glow-in-the-dark they already score some cool points with him, then it becomes tenfold better when he discovers that it’s now possible to pretend being best buddies with the Stal monsters. No doubt Greta is still working on a new set, using the Luminous Stones that he paid her for his own armours. On the other hand, the _voe_ Desert Armours are apparently in stock, although they have different colour themes than the ones he saw when buying the Radiant pieces. 

Completely uninterested in the armours, Vilia sidles up to the Gerudo and says with a conspiratorial wiggle of her eyebrows, “How about a little information?” 

Greta looks mostly wary, though after a thoughtful silence she replies, “Not my usual wares, but I’ll try as long as it’s not going to put me in trouble.” 

“Great!” Clapping her hands happily, she drags Link to Greta’s counter and nudges her elbow into his side. “Come on, show it to her.” 

Link obediently retrieves the vialed perfume from his pocket and pushes it across the counter towards Greta. The Gerudo’s prominent brow furrows even deeper, giving clearer definitions of her facial features under the scant lighting of her shop. 

“What about it?” 

“I’ve seen this in your shop before,” Vilia says while Link is trying to come up with something to reply to Greta. “So, what can you tell us about this?” 

Greta gives Link a piercing gaze that Link begins to suspect as an ability unique to all of the Gerudo. “Didn’t steal it, did you? Or found it lying somewhere?” 

Link shakes his head, wondering in all of a sudden if coming to a Gerudo, even if one as secretive as Greta, is the worst idea he could’ve done. 

“Ugh, I really should just send you both on your way right now…” Greta pinches the bridge of her long, hooked nose although her tone implies her misgivings to do what she has just said. “Asking for troubles, that is. Then again, we _are_ standing in a shop selling _voe_ armours in the middle of Gerudo Town…” 

_-I’ll buy you a Noble Pursuit?-_

The stare from the Gerudo seems to have the intensity of the Divine Beasts’ aiming beams that had been trained on the Calamified Hyrule Castle. 

Link flutters his lashes hopefully. It works to a degree on Bozai, but he’s a bit of a prick and a bigger dimwit; Greta is definitely none of that, but at this point Link is willing to try anything to satisfy his curiousity. 

“Are you seriously trying to _bribe_ me? That’s a dangerous thing to try with a Gerudo. If the guards at the town’s gate accepts every Rupee the _voe_ tried to offer them, they’ll be sitting in a pile of money higher than the town’s wall and the place will be crawling with _voe_ – which is not the case.” 

_-…How about TWO Noble Pursuits?-_

Greta lets down her glare and buries her face into her cupped palms with a frustrated grunt. 

_“Sa’oten!_ You’re going to bring troubles to us all if you keep this asking around like this!” Greta is no longer face-palming; she’s massaging her temples with a scrunched-up look of someone in the grips of a hangover. “I have a feeling that you won’t stop even if I turn you out of my shop right now. Fine, then – it’s better to get over this quickly. Just so you know, if anything happens, you DIDN’T hear this from me.” 

Her tight face clearly shows her opinion that a couple of drinks is not nearly enough of a reward to cover the rationale behind her cooperation. Finally, with a resigning sigh, Greta picks up the bottle and gives it once-over. 

“First thing you ought to know: That’s not from my shop,” she says seriously, tilting the vial slightly to the side and beckons Link and Vilia to look closer at the bottom of it. “See this Gerudo symbol there? It means that it’s made by a master herbalist from the Chieftain’s Court. That is to say, this is Lady Riju’s property.” 

Vilia gasps behind her veil and the hands which she has brought to cover her mouth. Trying his best to ignore Vilia’s scandalized stare, Link signs, _-It’s a gift from Lady Riju. She says it’s to mask my scent…?-_

“That’s what a perfume does, alright. Although a non-Gerudo should not have any use for it. Then again, Lady Riju must have her reasons…” 

_-She said that I’m a man… something else…-_ Again Link resorts to spelling out the unfamiliar term to the ladies. If that fails, Link supposes he can always write them down – his grasp on Gerudo typography is not the best but most people are somewhat familiar to Hylian runes, especially if they are traders or merchants. Finished with his careful signing, he elaborates, _-She said I’m this kind of man. She also said that it’s only today she… smelled it on me._

Vilia, squinting and frowning through every gesticulation, says confusedly, “An ‘Alpha’…?” 

“That’s not a word that I know, but I can take a guess at Lady Riju’s meaning.” Greta looks conflicted as she changes her focus from the vial to Link’s and Vilia’s curious-staring eyes. She takes the plunge after a deep breath, with the determined look of someone who’s ready to meet rock-bottom. “Perhaps she means what we Gerudo calls a Sire. I suppose a little background is required here if you hope to understand your position. This perfume here has one important function: to suppress the scent of rutting Sires and avoid possibly dangerous confrontation.” 

“You’ve seen some of the Gerudo travelling the land to seek their own fortune and hopefully start a family with a worthy _voe_ – Most of them are what we call Rovers. However, many more Gerudo resides in our town or in nearby areas, and seek life-partners among ourselves. Those born as Sires or Dams are capable of producing _vehvi_ with each other, without involving a _voe_ at all. Of course, they can still be impregnated by _voe,_ but it will be harder for Sires to conceive compared to Rovers and Dams. Sires are better off with another Gerudo, preferably Dams for better and safer chance at pregnancy. I suppose Rovers are what pass for an average _vai_ among other races and they’ll find it easier carrying for a _voe._ Which is exactly why most Gerudo who strikes out for husbands are Rovers.” 

A hand shoots straight up in inquiry: Link’s. 

“What?” 

His hand moves in rapid but stuttering signage, _-These… people. They’re all Gerudo, right? And women?-_

Admittedly, he should have phrased that a little better but considering the mental gymnastics Greta is putting him through, it’s an achievement that she is able to understand the gist of it. 

“Well, _voe_ are born to us once in a while… and they can still be either a Sire, a Dam or a Rover. For the sake of simplicity though, yes, we’re talking about the Gerudo _vai_ you usually see.” 

_-And when you said ‘being impregnated’ by each other…?-_

“It means exactly that.” 

Link flails around with his hands in sign language’s equivalent of a very extended ‘er’. 

_-But you’re all… WOMAN.-_

“That’s precisely the point. Gerudo _vai_ can be married and raise family together like any _voe_ -and- _vai_ couple out there.” 

Link’s head is reeling. Zelda should be the one in his place right now, she’ll have an easier time understanding exactly what the hell Greta is talking about. Too bad the Hyrulean Princess is not with them and Link seriously doubts that the GSC’s shop-owner is inclined to talk more than once, especially to a foreign royalty. By all intents and purposes to Greta, Zelda is a dubious character who may or may not be a threat to her business’ shady operations. As it is, it depends on him to do the understanding until he can bring back the information to Zelda. It seems so far, Riju’s term of an Alpha, a Beta and an Omega correlates to Greta’s Sires, Dams and Rovers – not necessarily in that order. 

“So…” Vilia interrupts politely while Link is drowning in his own confusion, “You’re saying that… these little ones around the town – they’re not adopted? They actually have two mothers related to them by blood?” 

Greta nods, answering Vilia’s question but raising up a lot of new ones in Link’s mind. 

_-How does that even WORK? Two women together – they don’t exactly have the equipment for it… do they?-_

His brain reflexively goes wild with speculations, chiefly in the mental imagery department. A generic, faceless Gerudo figure conjured in his mind is quickly stripped off her clothing (which there being not much of it in the first place) and reveals a muscled and tanned body that possessed a pair of perky breasts on top… and a penis dangling between her thighs. His racing mind doesn’t come to a screeching halt – it stops dead right in its track like an unfortunate sand seal which has collided with a canyon wall. 

Instead of answering, Greta snaps in frustration. “If you are going to have me explain all of the details, we’ll be sitting here still come the next full moon! Now shush and let me finish.” 

Link immediately holds up a hand in a swearing gesture and clamps his other hand over his mouth. Vilia adjusts her veil carefully and looks on as if there is nothing in the world she rather does than listen to Greta. 

This seems to convince the Gerudo to continue. “Now, there are certain… conditions unique to Sires and Dams that enables conception. Once in a few months, a Dam will enter her heat cycle and she will be most receptive – but this also triggers nearby Sires into rutting. This can be quite a problem since –” 

As Greta continues with her explanation, Link’s mind begins to wander and pull up his past experiences in an attempt to connect with this really… unusual circumstance. When not living in the wilderness, he spends his nights at the numerous horse stables scattered throughout Hyrule, where he is re-introduced to the finer points of equine husbandry beside his various riding skills, which his muscles memories have miraculously preserved. What Greta is saying now reminds him of the behaviours of horses that he has observed. The stable owners weren’t kidding about the hazards of having mares in heat nearby – not because she is dangerous herself but because her propensity to have horny, highly aggressive stallions following after her has high chance of leading to collateral damages to humans unlucky enough to be nearby. He’s seen stallions lose their collective minds when a mare does as little as whipping her tail around… 

And now, presumably with him being a Sire or an Alpha or whatever one wants to call it, Link will be similarly affected by these… conditions. To be fair, he’s seen Hylians go crazy around pretty ladies – the men outside the Gerudo Town’s walls are proof enough of that – so it’s really just like the normal businesses turned a hundredfold more serious. At least, he hopes so. 

It’s awkward to try translating these behaviours to humanoids, but there it is. Maybe this is exactly why the Gerudo guards this knowledge strictly from the other races. From what he’s heard in Ashai’s _Voe and You_ classes, young Gerudo are struggling enough as it is to fit in with other races in Hyrule to try adding another layer of complexity to the mix. 

“And now, _finally,_ we get to the matter at hand,” Greta says, raising her voice a tad louder as she purposely taps her fingertip on the perfume bottle. “Sires enticed into ruts are very possessive, so tensions run high around these bunch. This perfume can help lessen the problem – some works to stifle a Dam’s heats, so Sires are not likely to go crazy around her. Yours, on the other hand, suppresses the influence of rut, on the wearer and other nearby Sires.” 

Link looks at the object hard. Greta definitely helps with her explanation but that still doesn’t diminish the sensation like he’s being unwillingly dragged off into deep waters with no land in sight. He thought he’s felt enough of a clueless dimwit to last a lifetime since his awakening from the Shrine of Resurrection. Apparently, fate has a different idea in store for him. 

_-But, if that’s made for a Gerudo, do you think it’ll work on me?-_

Greta shrugs. “For all I know, you shouldn’t even _be_ a Sire. It’s unheard of, a Hylian sharing this one Gerudo trait.” 

Link is many things, and most of all he is persistent. He moves his hands again. _-Do you believe that I’m actually a Sire? Maybe Lady Riju made a mistake.-_

Greta takes a few moments to answer this time, filling the pause with head-scratching and thoughtful _hmmms._ “I… doubt it. Lady Riju is unusually perceptive for her age. If she smells it on you, her nose couldn’t have lied even if I smelled nothing.” 

Link feels Vilia’s hand rubs his exposed shoulder in a universal soothing gesture of ‘there, there’. Even though her face is covered, the slight crinkling in the corner of her eyes tell him that Vilia is smiling. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, Link. After all, the Gerudo has lived with it long before our time.” 

“Vilia’s right. You’re a Hylian – I suppose it only matters if you marry to one of us. It shouldn’t be too different for you anyhow. _Voe_ Sires are virtually impossible to get pregnant.” 

Which is supposedly words of consolation, but Link finds himself not a little bit eased by the insight. Greta’s nonchalance only serves to remind Link that somewhere, some _when_ , a Gerudo _voe_ has actually experienced motherhood in its entirety, which is a notion that makes his ass clenches in instinctive anxiety. He has only the greatest respect for mothers and the difficulties entailed, but his male-oriented body just can’t fathom going through the same process and live to tell the tale. 

Is that why Gerudo _voe_ are so damn rare? 

Against his better judgement, Link dares himself to venture forth. _-The male Gerudo… do they…-_ Link struggles to phrase his question into the least offensive as possible, though at last he manages only with a lame, _-Do they survive?-_

“They do just as well as any _vai._ Anyway, since _voe_ is rarely born amongst us, they are expected to father _vehvi_ rather than carry one regardless of their roles.” 

While that doesn’t completely quiet his unease, Greta remains a source of calmness to Link – surely it shouldn’t be as bad as he imagined if she can afford to be composed as she is. He is immensely glad to be proven wrong rather than be haunted by gory musings he wishes he never thought of in the first place. 

“I think it’s wonderful,” Vilia says suddenly. It is the genuine fascination in her voice more than anything that makes Link turns to look at her. “To be given such an opportunity to have your own little ones regardless of your partner… I think I’m a little jealous now. Of all the months I’ve spent here, how come I’ve only known it today?” 

“Be grateful that you’re even aware of it at all,” Greta mutters dryly, her arms crossed under her breast-plates. She makes no effort to try hiding her growing misgivings in her implicit association. Link doesn’t blame her for feeling like that after being expressly told not to pursue the subject by the highest authority among the Gerudo. 

“True, but one can’t be blamed for being wistful.” Vilia doesn’t seem as upset as her wording implies – in fact, she sounds more cheerful than ever. “So, Link, you have anything else to –” 

“Save your questions for some other times,” Greta interrupts and picks up the perfume bottle to shove into Link’s palm pointedly. “That’s enough knowledge for one day. And now, I have a shop to close so you both can run along.” 

“Ah, Greta, you’re too worried! What is said in here remains within these walls,” Vilia replies with a theatrical gesturing around their enclosed settings. “I wager a glass or two of drinks will put you at ease! Cheer up now.” 

Oh, right. Of course. 

The clinking of Rupees in the purse when Link pats the _sirwal_ ’s pocket promises them that he hasn’t forgotten the deal despite Greta's insistence otherwise. And there’s only one place in Gerudo Town where the perfectly and refreshingly chilled Noble Pursuits can be had. As sceptic as Greta is of her near future, it is not generally good idea to refuse an offer of Furosa’s specialty, which is how she finally ends up stringed along with Vilia and Link after she has seen to her shop’s closure, treading the short distance towards the aptly named the Noble Canteen for their treats. Vilia looks so carefree and untroubled, Link can’t help but envy the bounce in her steps or the occasional giggles as she talks to the both of them along the way. 

As for Link, he is looking forward for an evening there. As Vilia has eloquently put it, a round of two of it will make the mind more amiable to Link’s new situations. 


	2. After The Rain

From his seat at the end of the jetty in the East Lake Reservoir, Vah Ruta looms high in distance, its trunk raised and its ivories retracted since the day it fires the lightning-bright beam towards Hyrule Castle, joining forces with the other Divine Beasts. The glare burns its mark on Calamity Ganon as much as it does into Sidon’s mind, who by then has raced off to a high enough perch and stared in the castle’s direction, his heart filled with dread for the worse after he and all of the Zoras – perhaps all of Hyrule denizens – hear the monstrous screech of Calamity Ganon. The distance spanned between the castle and Zora’s Domain makes it impossible to be certain for sure what has gone down there, but Sidon is neither stupid nor ignorant. Zora’s Domain had received the Champion days prior, and the prince was more than delighted to have Link’s every request honoured. Simple requests, really – weapons and arrows, smiths to take care of the blades already in his possession, a place to stay for a few nights, food just enough to replenish what his body has lost throughout his journey… 

And then, just as suddenly as he appeared, Link was gone. 

There was no warning, no notes, _nothing_ – come morning, the servants tasked to attend to the Champion’s comforts had instead returned to Sidon with the news of Link’s disappearance. It seemed as though he had vanished into thin air, leaving proofs only in the the crumpled waterbed and the dirty clothes he wore the day before. 

It was not difficult to connect the dots, especially when his absence was met with the sudden activity from Hyrule Castle. To be honest with himself, Sidon has not felt fear the likes of it when he realized just what Link had gone off to do, despite acknowledging that it was a fate Link had been preparing himself to face. He recalled the grimness in those ocean-blue eyes as Sidon spoke of the merits of the silver longsword he had the smiths provided for Link, the tightness of his mouth as Link stared up at the statue of Mipha at the central courtyard, the lack of eagerness as he faced the dinners brought to the table in front of him. Sidon noticed it all, but both his upbringing and his natural conscience had warned against breaching Link’s privacy beyond asking the most basic questions; instead, he had invited the Hylian for a stroll in the areas around Zora’s Domain to – 

Oh, that must have been the most unsuitable thing to say to Link, now that he thinks about it. _To take your mind off your worries?_ Of course it had worked in the complete opposite direction than intended! He has always suspected that his talkativeness would be his undoing, but it surpasses his worst expectation to think that he may have just caused Link’s as well… 

When Sidon realized that a battle 100-year overdue was being resumed in the heart of Hyrule Castle, he could offer nothing but silent prayers for Link’s strength and resolve to triumph. Even when the suddenly bloodied sky cleared away and Hylia’s ancient light shone anew from the Field of Hyrule, Sidon’s fear and expectation of the worst did not abate until Princess Zelda herself made her appearance at the entrance to Zora’s Domain with her Champion in tow, months afterwards. He constantly needed to remind himself to act as befitting of a Zora royalty and not disrespect Zelda as an individual of equal standing by prioritizing her knight… 

Against all odds, Link had returned from the battle victorious. Sidon had waited for proof in the flesh and blood, and there he was – a small and silent figure, looking a little exhausted, sporting scars Sidon did not remember having since his last visit to the Domain, but most importantly, he is _alive._

However, it was never a right time for him to reacquaint himself with the Hylian Champion. Link’s duty is to the princess first and foremost, and it shows as he stood silent in the throne room as Princess Zelda brought to them the grave proposal – a proposal that, despite the uneasiness it caused to the Royal Council, Sidon recognizes as crucial. He knows it, deep in his heart. The Domain is not lacking in warriors and stout-hearted subjects. Any one of them may conceivably become the next Champion to Vah Ruta… yet he senses that this is a task that should have been entrusted to him. 

And that brings him to his current position and mental state as day by day, he returns to the East Reservoir Lake and gazes at the mountain of an elephant which has remained where it is since the day Link released it from Ganon’s influence. No matter how vehemently he tries to push it away, Sidon’s mind always wonders of his dear sister, the pride and peculiar affection with which she has spoken of Vah Ruta to a then-younger Sidon, the fear she must have felt as the very beast that she trusted turned upon her under the malice of Calamity Ganon… 

“Prince Sidon!” 

Sidon turns around to see a familiar Zoran face approaching from the other end of the jetty. A dark grey-hided figure with a Silverscale Spear slung across his back, Bazz is easily recognizable among the other Zoras, barring only the members of the royal family themselves. His usual station is back in Zora’s Domain when he is not out on patrol along his designated routes; that he is doing neither begs the question of his purpose being here. The relief on his face is a clear indication that Sidon himself is his purpose. 

The prince retrieves his dangling feet from the water and stands up, his full height easily towering over the already muscled build of the other Zora; his mind is busily speculating why the Captain of the Zora guards is searching for him. Surely it is nothing too pressing – the well-established coded signalling using Luminous Stones are far more efficient ways to alert the residents of Zora’s Domain of impending danger rather than sending out someone to find the prince manually. 

“Any news from the Domain?” Despite all his reasoning, Sidon’s inquiry still comes out rushed with concern. The Calamity Ganon may not return for many, many years to come, but they have been living in its shadows for far too long to easily shake off from his mind. 

“I have one from the King, my prince,” Bazz says, striding on his short legs to the prince’s side. He is not in a hurry so whatever news he brings is not a distressing one. Sidon allows his gills to flare discreetly with an exhalation of relief. “His Highness has asked for your presence in the throne room as soon as you may.”

Another meeting. There seems to be endless sessions of it since Princess Zelda’s departure to Gerudo Town when the progress she has hoped to make seems like a far-fetched prospect for the time being. Sidon shares the council’s worry and reluctance, and he knows his father better than anyone else that his calm silence hides an inner turmoil only few can recognize. However, even Sidon can agree that a council meeting every other day only to repeat the same arguments they have been making is ridiculous and time-wasting. There’s no need for all these if only… 

Sidon lifts his gaze to Vah Ruta, eternally unmoving until the arrival of its new Champion. His stomach ties itself into a painful knot at the mere thought of himself walking through the innards of the Divine Beast and relives the death of his sister, trampled and speared and mangled by Ganon’s unholy creation. 

Again, Sidon forces himself out of his reverie. Lately, his thoughts are becoming much too grim for his liking. 

“Your Highness,” Bazz’s voice asks from his side, where the Zora Captain is standing and tracing Sidon’s line of sight to Vah Ruta. Without breaking his composure, he continues innocently, “…or should I tell the council that Prince Sidon is nowhere to be found along his usual patrol routes, and that they will do better to continue without him?” 

Now that is very, _very_ tempting. 

“If only, Bazz,” Sidon chuckles, relishing in the thought of the council’s disgruntled reaction and his father’s quiet amusement if that is what Bazz reports to them. As entertaining as that is, he will surely take the brunt of their displeasure in the next meeting tenfold, and thereafter all meetings will last that much longer. 

Bazz gives a shrug in response, although Sidon can see that he is not at all hiding a growing smirk. “Just throwing it out there, Sire.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind when it’s truly needed,” and pats the other Zora on his armoured shoulder. Sidon can’t stop Bazz from consistently referring him by honorifics, but he can definitely continue treating him as a friend that he is, rather than as a prince’s subject. 

It’s not exactly a behaviour condoned by the more orthodox members of the Royal Council, but Sidon is not going to sacrifice his relations with the other Zoras just to please their opinions on princely conducts. He does not begrudge them, knowing that they only want the best for Zora’s Domain and its inhabitants, but Sidon’s respect for them does not equal blind meekness. If he has been, he would never have pursued his mission of recruiting a member of the outside race to help quelling Vah Ruta’s flooding. 

“Pardon for speaking out of line, Sire, but all these talks are only going around in circle. They’re loud enough for Rivan and I hear from our posts.” 

“It’s worse inside, trust me.” 

Sidon stretches himself, only now realizing how long he has been sitting here from the stiffness in his muscles. He would’ve happily traded his place in secret with Bazz’s standing guard outside, if only Sidon is not so overtly huge compared to the others. Despite the repetitiveness of the contents, Sidon cannot afford to appear lapsing or else risking the elders’ accusation that he does not care as much as he should of the Domain’s welfare. 

How his father has managed it throughout the years of his rule is a wisdom Sidon hopes to learn one day, or he may start playing truant to the council meetings. 

The prince sighs, looking out one last time at the shimmering surface of the lake under the late evening’s sunlight. He has been out here long enough; it should be about time anyway for his return to Zora’s Domain. There will always be another day. 

“We better not waste any more time, Bazz.” 

Bazz is polite enough not to tempt his prince any further, instead falling into steps behind Sidon as they make their way back to Zora’s Domain. Thankfully, it is only a short descent to the Domain’s eastern entrance. The Zora guards on duty – Tottika and Dunma this time – salute their superiors as Sidon and Bazz pass through to the main square, where the statue of Mipha graces all who passes through the heart of Zora’s Domain. The sounds of high-pitched giggling alerts the prince from colliding with a gang of children running by. 

“Oooh, sorry, Prince Sidon!” One of them exclaims, stopping herself just in time to avoid running headlong into Sidon’s calf. Before he can say anything in return, the small girl is already giggling and rushing off towards a group of her waiting playmates. 

“Oh, Laruta, please be more careful next time!” a familiar voice says as the owner makes her appearance: Laflat, who is apparently standing watch over the children from the other side of Mipha’s statue and who has been thusly obscured until just now. To Sidon and Bazz, she says, “Please excuse them, gentlemen. They’ve been very excited since coming back from their swimming trips around the Domain.” 

For some reason, Bazz looks incredibly flustered and makes an extra effort to stand up straight, throwing his chest out as if he is on guard duty. “No harm done here. It takes more than that to bring down Zora’s Domain finest men.” 

The children, meanwhile, are trying and failing to hide their excitement, although Sidon is uncertain if they are now talking about their swimming trips or Laruta’s near-miss. From the girl’s wild hand-gestures, he opts for the latter. 

“She has a good reflex. She’ll make for a fine huntress when she has her full growth!” 

Sidon manages a conspiratorial wink at Laruta, who is doing a finer job at eavesdropping than the rest of her friends until she bursts out giggling at that, and says to the others not-so-discreetly, “He looks at me! _Prince Sidon_ looks at me!” 

Laflat is unimpressed. “With all due respect, my prince, don’t encourage her before they’re grown enough to swim beyond the Domain’s boundary. I can assure you; the parents are not going to be happy if that is the case.” 

Caretakers always get the worst, it seems like. Sidon suppresses a smile, remembering laments of his caretakers that he always has a penchant for swimming as far as the Bank of Wishes at Laruta’s age, wherelse Mipha at the same age compensated her free time by training her skills with the tridents. It’s not until he’s grown older and witnessed woes the likes of Laflat’s that Sidon begins to appreciate the burdens of the women tasked to look after him. As far as he knows, he never truly has that rebellious phase – his parents have taught him well to avoid that – but compared to his sister, Sidon was a terror. At the age where Zora children are taught to swim and dive, Sidon was already leaping up waterfalls, much to his guardians’ chagrin. 

“If that is indeed the case, the guards are at your service, milady,” Bazz says, thumping a fist to his armoured chest proudly. Sidon almost misses Laflat’s shy smile, but that is all it takes to understand Bazz’s sudden inclination to impress. 

It is surprising only in the sense that both of the Zoras are quite discreet in their flirting. He is not blind to the glances the Captain gives whenever the female passes, and from the smile on his face when Laflat comes to talk to him after his shift ends. Sidon wonders what has caused this change, but who is he to question it when both parties are willing? 

Indeed, the Zoras are clearly lost in each other when they continue to discuss the details of future outings for the children. There are various spots within the vicinity of Zora’s Domain where outings for the children can be arranged. A couple of Zora guards can be employed as back-ups to the caretakers, with Bazz making clear that he can always be called upon for such tasks. A few other names are mentioned as possible candidates for both positions, with a clear exception being only Gruve with his diving obsession. 

By all means, it is a serious and formal topic but they talk as if they will not miss it for anything in the world. 

Sidon, on the other hand, has a less enjoyable matter to attend to. 

Sidon can be quiet if he wants to. Without either of them notices, the prince excuses himself from their midst and hurries up the steps to the throne room. By royal standards, entering without having the guards announce his presence is rather impolite, but Sidon has never abided by that one rule. It is too much of a hassle and too aplomb for something that can be accomplished in two seconds. In return, the council grows used to his straightforwardness and stops making a fuss over his ‘uncouth’ entrance, albeit grudgingly. 

“Ah, Sidon! It is good that you can be with us,” King Dorephan says in what is considered to be his normal speaking voice, but in reality carries well over to the bottom of the stairs. 

“Father.” Sidon bows before the king and takes his customary place at the left-hand side of the throne. 

Sidon takes stock of the other participants on the other side and finds himself surprised that they are not the usual collection of council members. There is Muzu who may as well be a fixture to the throne room, Trello the Master of Planners and Jiahto, who is a well-known historian among the Zoras. Interestingly, there is also a group of acolytes who is charged with goddess statue and the Sheikah shrine lining up neatly on the back, apparently led by a tall, ornately dressed priest. 

Besides the clergy assemblage is a Zora elder that requires a few seconds of thinking before his name comes occurs to the prince. Kapson, as Sidon is understood, is the former head of priests who moves out of Zora’s Domain after the threat of Vah Ruta’s rampage has ended. It was a rather mysterious circumstance – Zora is a communal race whose children and elders are respected and cared for by the rest of the community members. He lost his wife during the onset of the Great Calamity, but his only daughter Gaddison survives to this day and is now a part of the Zora Knights. 

However, it puzzles even his daughter when Kapson announces that he has found his second calling at a town whose name she has not heard of before. At least, Gaddison has assured that he sounds content in the letters he sent to her since his departure via a Rito trader by the name of Fyson. That is also how the Zoras come to know the name of this new settlement: Tarrey Town, a blooming place populated strangely with members of various races. Apparently, Link was partly responsible for the town’s founding as well, as if going around saving the rest of Hyrule is not enough of a responsibility for him… 

“Well then – I think we can start this conclave now. This is quite unlike the other days, as I understand.” King Dorephan indicates towards Kapson with one beefy finger. “Kapson, if you please.” 

The elder Zora affects a few rounds of coughs before he begins. “My liege, forgive my sudden return to Zora’s Domain, but I bring tidings of great importance to our people. For many nights now, the same dream recurs to me: I see the Springs of Wisdom, Courage and Power overflow their banks until Zora’s Domain is flowing with their blessed waters. Fish of every kind fill the waters from as far as Lake Hylia to Zora’s Domain until the surface writhes with their fins. The dragons Dinraal and Farosh dance in the skies of Hyrule, and Naydra flies free once more to join its brethren, blessing the land with their holy lights.” 

From the anticipatory look on Kapson’s face, there must be a punchline in there somewhere that Sidon unfortunately misses. 

Sidon only manages to feel marginally better when he realizes that almost all of the others look as clueless as he feels, with a few exceptions such as Muzu and King Dorephan. The huge Zora’s clawed hand is rubbing his chin in what Sidon is familiar as a sign of deep thought – or at least, an illusion of it. A well-known ‘thinking posture’, as he calls it, is a convenient way to steal a little time for oneself during the usual cacophony of a council meeting. Whether or not any deep thinking is actually done is a secret nobody else has to know. 

“For goddess’ sake, does anyone here bear the knowledge of the oracles anymore? You call yourself a priest, so proud with your ceremonial sash and sceptre, and yet you have no idea at all how to interpret prophetic dreams?!” 

Kapson is fuming and staring openly in the head-priest’s direction until the younger Zora drops his eyes. In the traditional order of business, Sidon assumes he has failed an important task of interpreting Kapson’s dreams into layman’s terms to the assembled Zoras. 

Rivers choke full of fish, the goddesses’ springs, the blessing of the dragons… 

To his puzzlement, Sidon has a nagging feeling that he has heard about this before. 

Oracular advices are not taught to him at all; in fact, priesthood as a whole is included his educations only as an aspect of his future rule rather than for his personal following. However, he does remember prophetic dreams being featured prominently in their culture and influence the Domain’s administrations. Anyone of high spiritual empathy may be visited by such foresights, although generally only those taught in the ways of the priesthood are able to understand its significance. 

“Let us be thankful that it is not an unfamiliar omen,” Muzu interrupts before the young priest crumples further into himself under Kapson’s withering gaze, his raspy voice carrying the sort of authority exclusive to wizened councillors everywhere. “Ever since the rise of Calamity Ganon, dreams of the light is lost to us. Even after its sealing, very few who lives nowadays are gifted with the inner eye to receive them.” 

“That as may be, but at the very least the clerics should be educated in understanding its hidden messages! What if the signs are more obscure? What advices can they give then?” 

“Undoubtedly that will be restructured into the priesthood training,” the king rumbles as Kapson is preparing himself to launch into another rant, “but tell me first, venerable one. Does this mean that the river run returns to us this year?” 

“Without doubt, Your Highness. There is a goddess statue at the centre of the town, and every day I pray to it for guidance. I have the same dream without fail the night after.” 

“So, it is _really_ true…” King Dorephan says, his voice taking on that low, bass quality that he once used when Link first arrived at the Domain, only to find out that he lost even the memories of Mipha. “…I remember when the dreams come to a select few among our people, many years ago. The river run was always such an occasion.” 

It dawns on Sidon then, the real topic of this unexpected meeting. 

The river run – Indeed, it was mentioned a few times in his studies, but a more recent reference to it is from a conversation he accidentally overheard between the Zora women while he paid his daily respect to the statue of Mipha. They had talked wishfully, recalling stories how some of the women’s mothers and fathers found each other during the river runs, and other tales that sounds like straight out of romance books. 

It is, as far as he is understood, is a Zora’s season of love, but he did not stay further to listen out of respect of their privacy, while also growing uncomfortable as his name came into play. 

Still, that night, he had perused some of the old notes his teachers had given him on cultural studies. There was not much, but at least he knew that during the years leading to the emergence of Calamity Ganon, it became scarcer and more unpredictable, eventually dying out altogether as the land suffers from its Darkness. The last one occurred well before his hatching, and Mipha didn’t even underwent her growth spurt yet. Without it, Zora children became rare as couples failed to conceive, and in the event of pregnancy, most eggs died before its time… 

Now, apparently, it is back again. Small wonder that Kapson, as a Zora of older generations, is putting high hopes in it and why the head-priest’s ignorance draws such ire from him. 

Fortunately, there doesn’t seem to be much to be discussed about once the fact has been established – A Domain-wide announcement will be made on the prediction of the river run, a mention of rescheduling for river patrols, Kapson telling them that he plans to remain in Zora’s Domain for a few weeks to see if his daughter may actually find herself a husband this time… 

The council is eventually dismissed with relative peace, leaving the throne-room to King Dorephan, Sidon and Muzu all to themselves. Once certain that there are no lagging Zora to eavesdrop, the wizened advisor turns to the towering king, his gnarled digits stroking the overhanging flaps on the sides of his face. 

“Your Highness, perhaps it is reasonable to appoint a few of the women at the palace to attend to you, once the season sets in.” 

Sidon fights to quell his blush. This conversation is heading into unchartered territories too quickly for his liking. 

“There will be no need for that.” Sidon has yet to learn his father’s skills in tempering his facial expressions, but he is accustomed enough with the king to notice the subtle signs of gloom. Looking far into the distance, beyond the glimmering stones and pillars of the Domain, King Dorephan says with forced collectedness, “…When Thalassa passed from this world, the Domain and I lost more than a queen. No, Muzu – I understand your concerns, but I am unlikely to be affected by it any longer.” 

“…As you wish, my liege.” 

Muzu doesn’t look too comfortable dropping the subject just like that, but it is obvious to him and Sidon that the king is adamant, just as it is clear to them how the memories of their late queen is still scarring to him despite his calm façade. 

Perhaps in the older ages the likes of Princess Ruto’s, Zora people do not experience as much difficulty outside the river run season, but that has changed come the age in which King Dorephan was borne. He is considered an oddity, for being a royalty when Zoras generally have troubles to bear children, to not take any concubines when he and Queen Thalassa were wedded – obviously, the king has no intention to make exception after all these years. 

Sidon, on the other hand, does not bear as much confidence in this matter when King Dorephan’s gaze lands upon him with the weight of Mount Lanayru itself. 

“I am unlikely to be affected by it any longer,” the king repeats, his stare unflinching from Sidon’s person, “…but for you, Sidon, this will be your very first river run. It will no doubt be of substantial influence on you.” 

“Father, I –” His voice comes out as an embarrassing croak which he is forced to remedy with a quick cough, “I’m sure I don’t need such… ah, measures.” 

“I am sure you would think so,” the king says, his amusement as thinly disguised behind the twinkling in his eyes, “You are always one who is particularly in touch with your instincts, but you have yet to feel its call during the river run.” 

Ever since he reaches the final stage of his maturity, the Royal Council has been ceaselessly nagging him to father a future heir to the royalty; even shamelessly proposing to try with one of the courtiers assigned in his service. Sidon has declined on many grounds, which is just as well since his father has never tried to argue with him. 

To hear that King Dorephan is suggesting – even a mere implication of a suggestion – for him to take on an attendant for the river run is… surprising, to say the least. 

Muzu is huffing when Sidon reiterate his stand. It may have been a mutter, although only he can pass it off while still being audible to the whole throne room: _Life father, like son._

“It is not a question of continuing the lineage, my prince. The urge to mate during the season can be a heavy burden to many Zoras; there is no shame to find some help in relieving it. It does not have to be a commitment beyond the season of the river run.” 

Sidon bites back the urge to disagree; the tone teetering at the tip of his tongue is definitely embarrassing to hear, even in the company of someone as familiar as those two in the throne room. Most of all, Sidon regrets not taking Bazz on his offer when he still has the chance… 

There’s something _really_ wrong in the discrepancy between his reactions and the seeming nonchalance displayed by King Dorephan and Muzu. Already his insides feel like a squirming mass of newly hatched fry, his face stinging hotly with shame and the feeling of exposedness; whereas they seem no different than discussing menu for tonight’s dinner. Is it because they have experienced a time when the river run is more commonplace, while Sidon’s generation has only the faintest idea of its existence? 

Worse still, Sidon surfaces from the sea of his own embarrassment to find that Muzu is still not finished. 

“…or, if you’d prefer, a different sort of partner? A friend, perhaps, whom you trust to share your burden during the period?” 

Muzu is now officially _worse_ than the gossip-mongers hanging around the main square. 

He has his friends, of course – Bazz and Rivan being the two that immediately comes to mind – but that will be twisting their established friendships into all sorts of complications that Sidon doesn’t want to even begin thinking about. Similarly, there is no way resorting to partnership with one of those so-called ‘admirers’ will be a remotely good idea for so many reasons. 

Then, inexplicably, Sidon’s thought lands on _Link,_ of all people. 

Link, a friend that comes unlooked for in the Domain’s bleakest hour. Link, who has saved the soul of his dear sister from an eternity of imprisonment and rises again to fight the Calamity, against all odds. Link, with his huge, radiant smile, eyes that merrily sparkle like the waves of the sea under the midday sun, that messy mops of hair of colours richer than the finest gold… 

_No._

_No, no, no – Link is absolutely off-limits!_

Sidon is already quailing at the prospect of asking his Zoran friends, why would he find the idea any less troubling than with the Hylian Champion? Not to mention that this is Zora problem; Link has more burdens than those shoulders should bear, and this is only the first in the very long list why he would much rather receive a chestful of Shock Arrows. 

The surge of panic done with, Sidon feels himself deflating, his gills clamping to his sides agitatedly. He is no stranger to being thrown in midst of confusion and expected to emerge out of it triumphant, but this is asking too much of him. Even if all the other, more obvious issues set aside, the simple fact is that Link is the man whom Mipha has loved so dearly that she gifted away her hand-crafted Zora Armour to him. What kind of blasphemy it is to betray the memories of his dear sister by recruiting the Hylian into something so… so… 

“Sidon.” 

King Dorephan’s rumbling voice is gentle but in the stillness of the throne room and the confusion that wreaks chaos in Sidon’s mind, it serves as an effective anchor to reality. The prince looks up at his father leaning out of his throne, eyes boring deep into him. 

“There is no obligation in this, only an advice.” And if there’s one thing about advice that King Dorephan makes clear, it’s that Sidon can ask or receive as many of them as he wants, but never ignore his own counsel as well. 

Sidon hates the way he just can’t stop blushing, but at least he makes the effort to meet the king’s eyes. The claw-tipped fingers dig into his palms when he closes them, but a Zora’s skin is thick enough to withstand the abuse and the pressure helps immensely in calming him down. 

“I’m sorry, Father. I will need more time to think this through.” 

“Then I suggest that he makes his decision quickly and wisely.” Sidon doesn’t realize when exactly Muzu has petered off whilst he is occupied with his inner debates, only that the elder looks as resigned on the topic just as much as Sidon wants his embarrassment to end. “In the meantime, I shall notify the both of you if anything comes up from the clergies.” 

The king relaxes back into the curve of his throne, his expression content. “Yes, that will be much appreciated.” 

It is the same tone that King Dorephan used to say the council has decided or its equivalents. It is also a tone that effectively means dismissal, a polite one if a little abrupt, but Sidon is willing to take what he can get while there’s still a chance. Muzu may have more to say, but for today Sidon has had his shares that needs much thinking about to sort out his jumbled feelings. He executes a bow that feels clumsy and stiff than his usual routine, enunciating the customary thanks engraved in his mind from his childhood’s etiquette lessons without being quite aware of the words, and takes his leave as soon as King Dorephan gestures acknowledgement for his departure, all while his mind is swirling with the many possible scenarios how the river run season will go for him. 

He can’t even bring himself to look Bazz properly in the eyes when the captain greets him on the way back to his personal chamber. 

It’s a blessing when he finally reaches his royal quarters without any embarrassing accident along the way. After the surprisingly eventful day for all the wrong reasons, Sidon appreciates it when he is finally free to take off his princely regalia – the head-feather is the first to go, ending with the silver belt that holds his longsword, which he favours over the Zora spears traditional to his people – and lowers himself into the waters of his sleeping pool, resting his spread arms on the edge of the pool luxuriantly. To say that he is tired is an exaggeration, but for tonight, Sidon finds his pool much too comfortable to leave, even for the dining hall and all the cuisine the chefs must have come up for dinner. Fortunately, the servants oblige his request without so much as a raised brow at his change from the norms and return with a few more to their numbers, each bearing a tray laden with what looks like every available menu on the table. 

Sidon wonders if he looks particularly hungry to them that they should expect him capable of finishing all the dishes on his own in one sitting; instead of commenting on it though, Sidon thanks them for their services and bids them to leave him alone. There are too many trays to make serving them on tables practical, so Sidon has asked them to simply spread a table mat on the floor where the trays can be set upon, after which they excuse themselves out of the prince’s quarters. Sidon takes his time to finally have his dinner after what feels like hours of wallowing about, not without a speck of regret that it means leaving the cool cosiness of the pool. He sits cross-legged on the floor as he has done many times, when the patrols extend beyond his usual schedules or during the marches in one military campaign or another; tearing through whatever dinner they have managed to cook up by the campfire, the damp riverbank a meagre but much-welcomed comfort after a hard day’s toils… 

This is far from the bare necessities to be had in the wilderness, so Sidon doesn’t find the lack of a table and chair noticeable at all. However, he does find the dinner a little lacking – not in the food itself, as the assorted fish and shellfish boiled, grilled, roasted, stir-fried, and prepared in all manners of cooking method are delicious, but in the silence of his quarters and the amount of food piled up before him, the Zora prince is inevitably reminded of Link and his astounding appetite for anything that can fill his stomach, gulping portions seemingly too large for his mouth with ease. 

Link is mostly silent, content to listen whilst he faces his dinner with a vengeance; it is mostly from the flickers of his ears that Sidon knows that he is heard, but sometimes the Hylian will favour him with a tilt of his head, a short gesture of his hand, a smile, a handful of words… 

The council may have divided opinions on Link’s presence (though most of them at least recognizes Link’s deeds outweighing the so-called misfortune he brought on the Domain – which is absolutely ridiculous), but Sidon knows that he, for one, is looking forward to the Hylian’s next visit very much.


	3. Daughters of the Desert

It’s far from daybreak when Link finds himself inexplicably awake in his bed. The first he does is to listen but no suspicious sound presents itself other than the sighing whispers of the desert wind. Nothing much to see either, for that matter – his quarters is in the same condition as before he falls asleep, and the world outside his windows… 

Well, there’s one thing that stands out, but Vah Naboris is not something that should present any kind of threat now. Not, especially, after its acceptance of a new Champion. 

As a result, the Divine Beast is now back on level ground as opposed to kneeling on the plateau in the Gerudo mountain range. _That_ must have what jolted him awake in the first place. His instinct makes poor distinction between a friend and a foe, and so needs a conscious brain to make the decision to anything that is remotely out of the norms – the sight of Vah Naboris outside of his window, for one. It is an obvious answer now that he’s awake, but he still watches on to be sure. The lines streaking across the Divine Beast remains peacefully blue. It is standing now, on its absurdly stilt-like legs that do not seem able to carry half its weight by right, but still does for some mysterious reasons. None of that bone-chilling roars that greets him when he first set foot on the desert as well, just a quietness that blends well with the lonely desert scene. 

All signs of peace, not danger. 

But old habits die hard and Link finds himself too wide awake to return to sleep anytime soon. When he was roaming the wilderness and monster-fighting is what passes for daily routines for him, he has only the slightest troubles with sporadic sleep patterns – sometimes, they were only false alarms and Link would happily tuck himself back in his woolly blanket, the day’s toils carrying him back to sleep easily; other times, he sprung to his feet battle-ready, the Hylian Shield in one arm and Master Sword in another, facing down whatever threats that have interrupted that night’s rest. However, Link has fitful sleeps on most nights during his stay in Gerudo Town, with rare exceptions being the faults of nightmares rather than real threats. 

Tonight marks the first time Link is awakened by relatively benign cause, although his danger-honed instinct is still wary. He’s been too ingrained with expectation of violence that it becomes the norm. 

Link looks out of the window, at the distant yet undeniable form of Vah Naboris in his search for some peace. With Riju’s ascension into the post formerly held by Urbosa, it becomes the first among the Divine Beasts to receive a new pilot. Of course Buliara’s apprehension is justifiable, but the rest of them – Riju herself included – have their own reasons to be delighted by the prospect. 

An idea, tentatively sparked at his first sight of Vah Naboris out in the desert, solidifies into conviction the harder he stares at it. 

But first – Zelda. Link’s ears twitch in search of sounds from the room beside his, but nothing comes up. The princess must be asleep then, and fitfully so. Some nights, she too was troubled by nightmares, the subject which Link has no trouble imagining; in others, she was awake until the next morning, picking up where she had unceremoniously left off in her studies of ancient Sheikah technology. In the wake of Riju becoming Vah Naboris’ new Champion, Zelda’s researches restart in earnest to prevent the tragedy of a hundred years ago from repeating. 

For tonight though, it seems to Link that her exhaustion triumphs over her overtaxed mind. At least, now Link can be sure that he will not be missed if he is to vanish from his room for a few hours… 

Although nights at the desert are uncomfortably chilly, the buildings in Gerudo Town traps the day’s heat and radiates it out during the night, so Link has little trouble to keep warm wearing only his shorts. Fighting the comforts of his warm bed, Link untangles himself from the heavy blanket and dresses himself quickly in his Gerudo _vai_ top; though when he tries to pull on the corresponding _sirwal,_ he pauses for a moment at the sight of the bulge between his legs. He just can’t seem to stop himself from having this new reflexive doubt about his body as if he has been attached to a physical form not of his own. 

That, or that the Shrine of Resurrection has messed something up during his slumber. 

Link tries to ignore the intrusive feelings, but some things are harder to dismiss than others. 

Against all reasoning and reassurance he has repeated to himself day and night, Link shoves the waistband down and takes his member in a one-handed grasp. Link has always been a Hylian man as far as he can remember, and the package between his legs prove that beyond doubt – Nothing too extraordinary and, while he has little comparisons to draw upon, are of respectable proportions for someone of his build… 

…except, for the last few days, he has been suspecting that he – namely his male bits – is _growing_ in size. Which sounds like something he should be proud of, if Link is not too busy feeling troubled by this shocking realization. Neither Riju nor Greta has warned him about this, but Link can’t be sure if they even know what to expect with an oddity like him. Not to mention, it’s bound to be horribly awkward if Link somehow manages to bring up the question. 

As for Zelda… 

He has tried his best to avoid her questions since the night he came back to his guest quarters after hours’ worth of drinking with Vilia and Greta. He’s plopped right down on his berth with Zelda’s questions pounding strangely in his ears… and woke up just in time to escort her to the meeting with Riju at the South Outpost. _Then_ the questions of his Sireness goes out of the windows altogether when Zelda finds herself a new subject to research in Vah Naboris and its new Champion. Link couldn’t have been more grateful in being spared the awkward Q-and-A. 

At least, Link’s junk doesn’t look that much different aside from the size as he tries to check it, just as he has done too many times to count by now. No discomfort, no extra veins or random flapping bits – just a normal Hylian cock-and-balls. He even manages to get a few decent hard-ons and jerk himself off to normal-feeling climaxes, which, if nothing else, proves that they’re working as they should be. When he needs a little bit of imaginations, it’s not like the fantasies he uses to get off are anything weird or creepy. In short, he’s a Hylian with normal desires and bodily functions. 

Which should have put him at ease, but Link can’t help but feel like he’s missing something… 

Link huffs, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind. It’s not like he can do something about it either way. His inspection concluded, he pulls his _sirwal_ all the way up and tighten his belt, his genitalia-centred concerns already melting as he works through the motions and secures the Sheikah Slate to his hip. Mindful of the Gerudo’s warning, Link dabs himself with a few drops of the Riju-gifted perfume. 

Next, the weapons – and not all of them are for himself. 

From the side of his berth, he picks up the seemingly ordinary drawstring sackcloth bag which is, in fact, has been enchanted courtesy of Hestu. Envisioning his target in mind, he delves his hand into the piles of minerals inside until his fingers close around the handle of a sword, which he pulls out. The Scimitar of the Seven, Urbosa’s signature blade, is enfolded carefully in a piece of oilcloth for extra protection and out of respect; Hestu’s enchantment not only allows his bag to carry more than what seems possible, it also acts as a protective container to anything that Link can throw in it. There’s a limit to it, of course, but Link is thankful for the ability for extra carriage as afforded by the Korok’s magic. Link returns to the bag and this time, he pulls out its pair: The Daybreaker Shield, similarly wrapped like the scimitar, prized like all of the Champions’ weapons which he usually keeps mounted in his house in Hateno until he began his journey to the four Champions’ kingdoms. 

Carefully, Link unwraps them and smiles at the glints of metals that meet him from behind the covering. Still looking good and in perfect conditions for use… or to be passed down to the next person. They have been gifted to him by Chief Riju and he has accepted them, thinking that they will be of great help in his struggles against Calamity Ganon. What really happened, though, was that he grew reluctant to use any of the Champions’ weapons for fear of damages to one of the last reminders of his friends – yes, even Revali, who was and still is, even as a spirit, something of an insufferable prodigy and a jerk. In his heart, Link comes to personally regard himself as their caretaker more than anything. He already has his Master Sword for the purpose as described by its darkness-sealing title and whatever blades he scrounged up from his defeated enemies for the more mundane uses. 

Now, with Vah Naboris already acceptant of its next Champion, the legendary weapons can find their way back to the rightful heir. He needs only the original owner’s approval to make it proper and convince Riju to accept them… 

Satisfied of their conditions, he returns the scimitar and the shield into the Hestu-enchanted bag. For himself, he straps the Master Sword and the Hylian Shield to his back; considers the Knight’s Bow for several seconds before resigning to the extra weight rather than finding himself underequipped when needing ranged offensives. Revali’s Great Eagle Bow is by far the best archery weapons he’s had his hands on, but that he merely brings along in his bag like the other Champions’ weapons rather than risking their damages. 

Having prepared himself accordingly – which entails armaments sufficient to take on several Bokoblin camps – Link makes his way out of the guest buildings and into the open air. Immediately, Link is thankful for the warming enchantment provided by the ruby circlet which he bought from Isha. It is still too dark out that few Gerudos are awake so Link is largely unnoticed except by the couple of guardswomen at the town’s main gate. 

That’s all well and good, and they don’t try to stop him. Gerudos don’t stop people going out – it’s the people trying to get in that they have their eyes trained upon. 

Most importantly, they don’t betray his presence to those that matters: the wild sand seals basking luxuriously on the lingering warmth from the sand just beyond the town’s perimeter. With the same stealth he uses on unsuspecting fairies and distracted enemies, Link sneaks right up to them, a sturdy rope in hand with which he lassoes one of the cows – the females are generally more easily steered than the males. 

The loop catches the beefy neck of the sand seal he is aiming for. Startled, the animal tries to dive down, but the extra drag of Link’s body prevents a smooth entry. She looks back, barks more irritated than fearful – the rope tightens when she tries to pull away, but her thick skin makes it near impossible to strangle her. When she looks back at the unexpected weight she is towing, Link swears that the sand seal manages an expression close enough to pass off as _Really now?_

Cracking his voice for its first usage for the day, Link says, “I’ll give you some of these if you be a good girl, okay?” 

The sand seal eyes the wild berries Link’s outstretched hand. He tosses a few and she snatches them from the air expertly with a flick of her neck. Apparently appeased with the offering, she manages another near-human expression of _Ehh, works for me_ and stares ahead, conveying readiness to be his temporary transport. 

With one hearty _yah,_ the animal surges forward in a burst of dust and sand. 

  
  


Unlike his first time approaching Vah Naboris, the Divine Beast makes for an unmoving destination tonight. He pulls on the makeshift rein when he is near enough; the sand seal barks, then stops not too far from another pair of sand-sealish figure – one is identical to his own except with markings that depict her as one of Gerudo Town’s domesticated animals; while the other is a more familiar one, sporting blueish-grey hide, a pair of long, age-yellow tusks and a tuft of grey mane tied with a cute pink bow. As Link disembarks from his shield-turned-surfing board, the grey sand seal favours the Champion with a long, bleary-eyed look very typical of her species, except hers makes him feel like there are crickets crawling all over his skin. 

“Hello, Patricia,” he says with a smile while tugging the rope loose from the sand seal that he has recruited, her service done with. She barks pointedly for the rest of his deal when he has released her from the rope; he rummages for a handful of wild berries, which he places on the ground in front of her. 

Link strides over to Patricia and her companion as the other sand seal chomps on its rewards, and offers the handful of remaining wild berries. “Nice to… _seal_ you out here.” 

He would have enjoyed knowing Patricia’s response but without Padda around, he settles with Patricia’s discreet wink as a confirmation that his pun is appreciated by the master. He doesn’t expect to see Riju’s favourite steed out here in the wild, and certainly not in the butt end of the night – she doesn’t wander around like her wild brethren, so her being here means that the Gerudo Chief is up there in Vah Naboris. It will make this business all the easier, having all the required people in one place. 

It also means that _Buliara_ is around, and that the other sand seal is _her_ steed. 

Not that it concerns him. He’s more than fine with their company, even Buliara’s. She’s more like that one aunt who’s not afraid to twist the ear of an unruly boy who doesn’t say _please_ or _thank you._ Perhaps Riju finds familial substitute in those exceptional people who’s not afraid to look past the shells of monarchy they’re forced to wear, just like Zelda finding hers in Urbosa… 

Vah Naboris lets out an echoing growl in all of a sudden, putting Link and the sand seals on alert, but instead of anything alarming the Divine Beast lowers itself creakily to the ground. Its retractable legs wobble, threatening collapse on the unfortunate watchers before they fold upon themselves neatly. In doing so, it makes the hatch on its belly accessible without needs of flight or fancy climbing when it comes to rest fully on the ground. The entrance comes equipped with a ramp – and standing at the top of the walkway, surrounded in the cool blue glow of will-o’-wisps, is the Gerudo Champion Urbosa. 

_“My, my,”_ she says, her voice carrying easily across the distance between them, _“It seems that Vah Naboris is graced with guests one after another tonight.”_

As he makes his way towards her, Link can see that Urbosa’s lips are quirked in that small half-smile she used to do in his memories. Unlike her first manifestation after his defeat of Thunderblight Ganon, Urbosa’s expression is no longer as tight or wistful. Here, she looks… serene, looking almost like the statue of Hylia with its mysterious smile to its supplicating audience. He flashes a smile of his own when Urbosa welcomes him aboard but frustratingly his voice decides in that moment to play hard-to-get, forcing him to sign instead. 

_-Riju is here too, isn’t it?-_

_“Up on the central altar with Buliara. That bodyguard of hers isn’t too keen to believe anyone other than a Yiga running about at this ungodly hour.”_

Of course Buliara would be. It’s a valid concern too, seeing that the only exception to it is Link himself… 

_“Is Zelda not with you tonight?”_

Link shakes his head then adds in sign language, _-She’s sleeping. Probably passed out from her reading.-_

 _“Still the studious one, I see…”_ Urbosa’s eyes gleam with nostalgic fondness that makes Link somewhat self-conscious of being there as if he is being intrusive to the Champion’s private moments. _“…Let her have her rest then. I daresay she deserves it.”_

As she speaks, the desert blows its nightly wind but Urbosa’s hair ruffles to a gust separate from what Link is feeling on his skin. He shivers a little before the warming magic in his ruby circlet kicks in. Despite the protection, he instinctively tucks his hands close to his body, hurries up the ramp and into the Divine Beast’s machinery-rumbling belly, beckoned by Urbosa’s little head-tilt as though to ask why is he standing there still. 

  
  


When he finds Riju and Buliara in the central chamber where Thunderblight Ganon made its appearance, the former is seemingly locked in a staring contest with the Sheikah eye on the face of the command pedestal. Buliara, as is her usual, is standing on guard at the edge of the altar with her hands poised on the hilt of her scimitar, without doubt prepared to run it through an unfortunate Yiga clan member although the sight of the Gerudo Champion’s spirit considerably puts her at ease. 

The clacks of Urbosa’s footsteps also bring the young chief out of her study of the Rune Pedestal. She turns around, hoping to ask something from the looks of it – whether it’s something about the pedestal or Vah Naboris’ supposed Yiga trespassers, Link can’t tell – before she immediately notices the familiar Hylian behind Urbosa’s towering form. 

“Link, you are here too? What a surprise!” 

_She looks young,_ Link can’t help but think. She carries herself with the pride and dignity as befitting the Chief of Gerudo so naturally, it’s easy to forget her age. She actually reminds him of a Zora in a way, when said Zora’s physical growth lags behind her mental maturity in that brief, yet awkward, transitional age. 

_“Lucky that it’s a pleasant surprise, and not a nasty one,”_ Urbosa says, effortlessly translating the severe frown that has Buliara looking like a particularly judgmental hawk. Come to think of it, sans the obvious avian features and the elaborate clothing of the Rito, Buliara’s expression looks like it could have been copy-pasted off Teba when he’s in sceptical moods… 

Link pulls himself together before Buliara catches on to his staring. What’s more, why is he suddenly prone to muse over these people he’s met…? 

Speaking of whom, Riju, the youngest of all who has helped him with the Divine Beasts, is looking all the more so beside Urbosa, who is tall even by Gerudo standards. Curiousity is written all over her face when she faces up to the older Gerudo, her green eyes twinkling merrily in the dim glow of Vah Naboris’ interiors. 

“But how did you know? It’s still dark out and we’re high up on Naboris here. Link’s face is not easily seen from where we’re standing even in daylight.” 

_“A blond Hylian seemingly on a suicidal run for Naboris?”_ Urbosa’s laughter is like the thunder she summons, powerful and lively. The ghostly fires around her dances with her mirth as she continues, _“Even after a hundred years, I believe not many can claim that honour, young chief.”_

Behind Riju, Buliara allows herself an agreeing harrumph. 

_“That said, I am inclined to be wary myself if I hadn’t ‘sensed’ him.”_ Realizing that she is suddenly the target of the others’ puzzled stares, Urbosa elaborates, _“The skills to call upon lightning is unique to the Gerudo. Link is only able to do so because I have given him a part of myself – which is what I’ve perceived upon his arrival.”_

Despite himself, Link reflexively looks down at his own chest, where Urbosa’s spiritual orb has disappeared into him just as the other Champions have done to impart him their respective skills – Revali’s Gale, Mipha’s Grace, Daruk’s Protection and, of course, Urbosa’s Fury. It’s said that only a few chosen people are capable of unlocking the elemental potentials characteristic of their races, and mastering them further supposedly takes years and years of arduous training. That he is gifted with them all in a blink of an eye feels a little… unfair, but Link can’t deny the innumerable times they have helped him throughout his journey, from making his trek easier to bringing him back from the brink of death. 

In the end, the Champions’ skills are every bit as instrumental as the Divine Beasts they piloted in Calamity Ganon’s defeat. 

_“I can sense it, you know, when you were out in the wild and facing down enemies after enemies, from the lowliest Bokoblins to Calamity Ganon himself. When you called for the lightning to aid you… I could feel the power waking up in me as well.”_ A smile and a conspiratorial wink here; Link can’t help but look at his own fingers as if willing to see the thread that connects him to the Gerudo Champion. _“I have said it before – I knew you wouldn’t let us down, and I’m all the more honoured that the Fury has been of service to you.”_

Seeing the righteous satisfaction on her face, Link wonders if it’s not just the minstrels’ fancies that the Gerudo’s elemental techniques come to be known as _Urbosa’s Fury…_

“Lady Urbosa? Do you think I can –” She abruptly stops as though catching herself from saying something, her forehead creasing with critical disappointment. She tries again, “I mean, I would like you to teach me about the technique as well.” 

Urbosa smiles warmly at the noticeable effort Riju is making to make herself sounds more… adult than what her wondering look implies. When Urbosa’s ethereal hand is raised in front of her, Riju makes herself stand upright like a soldier inspected by his general, only to be surprised when – rather than an evaluation of her worthiness, as Riju is clearly expecting – the spirit-Champion ruffles through her lush hair fondly. 

_“I may not be as well-versed as I was a hundred years ago, and my gift of it to Link has diminished the power somewhat… but yes, I can certainly teach you the ways, just as I will all that I know of Vah Naboris.”_

Embarrassed, Riju’s cheeks flush darker but she smiles with pride nonetheless. Urbosa is talking to the younger Gerudo with the same laid-back humour she uses in Zelda’s presence, Link can easily draw parallel between Riju and Zelda themselves in times like these, especially in their bearings. 

Since they are already veering into matters with Riju’s providence, Link deems it a good time as any to do what he comes for in the first place. His rummaging into Hestu-blessed bag attracts the ladies as he pulls out one item after another, each seemingly too big for the bag (these include a stock of arrows and a sword that is near its breaking point) until he lays on the floor of the Divine Beast the gifts of the Gerudo. 

_“Scimitar of the Seven,”_ Urbosa says, her expression changing from amazement at Link’s bag-tricks to fondness as she beholds the weapons she used a lifetime ago, _“…and Daybreaker. They haven’t lost their shine after all these years.”_

 _-Lady Riju presented these to me after Vah Naboris was pacified,-_ Link signs by way of explanation to Urbosa’s unspoken inquiry at the weapons being in his possession. 

_“A wise choice.”_ Urbosa’s approving smile relaxes Riju from her nervous expectation of giving the weapons away to a non-Gerudo despite himself being a friend of their race. 

_-They’ve been of great help to me, but with Calamity Ganon gone, they should return to the Gerudo.-_

Now certain of Urbosa’s support in her decision, Riju regains her Chieftain’s regality and declares, “You’re not expected to return them, Link. They are gifts as a sign of goodwill from us, as allies against a common enemy.” 

He remembers with some sheepishness the Thunder Helm which, unlike Daybreaker and Scimitar of the Seven, is lent to him after his pleas in front of Riju. Link has used it extensively in his travels and in some of the Sheikah trials and/or shrines – how can he _not_ take advantage of something that effectively negates lightning strikes? He returns it to Riju in the end, but it’s still a little _too long_ being in his keeping. 

Craning her neck searchingly, Link soon realizes that Urbosa is taking stock of his own weaponries and nods at the jutting hilt of the Master Sword and the broad Hylian Shield on his back. 

_“…but I see that you have reclaimed the darkness-sealing sword as well. The Scimitar and Daybreaker are quite redundant, I suppose.”_

Link can always use extra weaponries since he goes through so many enemies in so short a time. On the other hand, he rarely has the time to sit down and sharpen his blades. The scimitar and its pair-shield will find better owners among the Gerudo, wherelse Link mostly relies on the Master Sword’s otherworldly sharpness to keep him properly armed. 

Slowly, as he tries to arrange his words as formality is not something he’s well-versed in, he signs, _-Lady Urbosa, with your blessing, I’d like to give these back to your people. It’s why I came here tonight.-_

 _“As much as I wish for it, a spirit has little use of them anymore. It is better –”_ Urbosa’s gaze strays from the arms to Riju, _“– if they go to Riju. Not only is she the current Chief, she is also entitled to my inheritance as my closest kin.”_

 _“Young Riju here is my sister’s only granddaughter. Her mother is the previous Chief taking the mantle after my… absence,”_ Urbosa continues; explaining for the sake of Link’s surprised look the new piece of knowledge. Certainly they bear that certain familial resemblances, but until now Link hasn’t known of a direct connection between them. 

Buliara’s silence makes her temporarily forgettable, but here she speaks up. “I think that is the best course if Link insists on it. If anything, I can forge a Gerudo scimitar and Radiant Shield as replacements if he so wishes.” 

Then, just to be sure, Link signs, _-Do we need to have a ceremony for this?-_

“…It’s not compulsory. Like the Thunder Helm, a display will be good enough to show possession.” 

Satisfied, Link picks up the blade and its shield, kneeling like he once did as a military trainee finally granted his knighthood, and holds them above his head in offering to Urbosa. He’s come far since then, being taken in as Princess Zelda’s personal guard soon after his induction, but he still remembers bits and pieces of the formality involved. If there’s not going to be any ceremony, at least he can play the part well. 

Urbosa claims first the scimitar, swinging them in a graceful arc like an extension of her limb rather than a weapon; the shield’s handle she grasps with the confidence of an experienced warrior that she is. She slashes and twirls, facing an opponent none other than herself can see as though re-battling Thunderblight Ganon to her victory, before finally lowering them down and presenting the scimitar’s handle to an awestruck Riju, then hands over the shield to complete the pair. 

They look a little too big for the petite Chief, but in time Link has no doubt that Riju will grow into her heritage. 

“I’ve been trained with spears; not so much with these…” 

_“Practice makes perfect, young Chief. That wisdom will not fade with time,”_ Urbosa replies, her kindly smile never faltering as she manoeuvres herself beside Riju; one ghostly hand wraps around Riju’s scimitar-grasping hand, the other pushing Riju’s shield arm in position in front of them. _“Since we are already here, I think we can sneak in some practices before your day starts in Gerudo Town.”_

Riju looks nervous and excited in equal measures – the same expression Link has had on his face so long ago when he realizes, _truly_ realizes, that the fabled Master Sword was in his hand. 

“I’m ready, Lady Urbosa.” 

_“Good. Now, first thing first – the correct posture, or you’ll be doing damages more to yourself than your enemies…”_

  
  


The beginner’s lesson lasts until dawn starts to creep over the dunes and the air steadily warms up, which is when Buliara announces that it should be time for Riju to return to her palace in the town. There’s a distinct disappointment on Riju’s face at the prospect, but she agrees to go without further protest. Since Link has boarded the Divine Beast, it has remain primly seated throughout the night and requires no instruction from either Urbosa or Riju to enable their departure. 

“We’ll come again when my duties are done with, Lady Urbosa,” Riju says, pausing at the middle of the ramp bridging Vah Naboris’ entrance to the ground. Buliara is already with the sand seals and checking on their harnesses; Link’s wild-born steed is nowhere to be found. 

_“I’ll look forward to that, young Chief.”_

Perhaps it’s the trick of the growing light in the sky, but Link fancies that Urbosa’s glow seems brighter than when she greets him. She doesn’t seem to notice this, instead looking on as Buliara produces a pair of shields for herself and Riju. The two of them are soon towed away by their animals, quickly dwindling into a pair of dots in a cloud of sand in the distance. 

There are bound to be wild sand seals lounging around, Link supposes, and he’s prepared to find them first before resigning to walk all the way back to Gerudo Town. However, his step is interrupted by Urbosa’s hand on his shoulder; it feels surprisingly solid and somewhat warm. He turns around to find Urbosa’s stare unnervingly firm on his person, roaming from hair-tip to his boots-clad feet as though trying to search for something elusive and that she will stop at nothing until she finds it. 

Trying to simply her search for whatever-it-is, he signs, _-What is it?-_

 _“Your… smell,”_ she says, her furrowed brow making her unsettlingly aquiline, even more so than other Gerudos he has encountered. 

_-Probably it’s the perfume that Riju gave me,-_ he signs with movements that suggest casualness, when in fact his mind is running like a spooked hare in remembering all the things he talked about his ‘complication’ with Riju, Greta and Vilia. 

_“That’s what I thought. But there’s also –”_ her words stop abruptly as she arrives at the conclusion, the only one viable despite the implausibility of it. _“Link, you are a Sire.”_

Link nods to confirm although Urbosa doesn’t sound remotely doubtful at this point, only surprised. If Riju’s super-strong sense of smell runs in her family, Urbosa herself included, it makes sense that Urbosa will have no trouble detecting it on him. 

He signs, _-Riju said so too. That’s why she gave me the perfume.-_ As for why she seems indifferent to him tonight while Urbosa is more perceptive – 

_“Her senses are remarkable, but seeing that she hasn’t yet reached her full growth, perhaps there are still some aspects she is not privy to,”_ Urbosa says when he signs her the question. Still, her tone indicates that this is an educated assumption at best. _“The fact remains, however – The day Naboris acknowledged Riju, I only noticed the smell of the perfume. Now…”_

Her eyes glint like moonlight off a dagger-tip, although it doesn’t scare him. There’s shrewdness to them rather than malice. _“Your scent must have grown stronger, Link. Do you have any Gerudo ancestry in your blood at all?”_

Link’s first reaction is to shake his head, but he suddenly realizes that he remembers too little of his pre-Calamity life that he cannot say for sure. Nobody else has ever mentioned it to him; Princess Zelda herself only asserts that he comes from a Hyrulean nobility whose father was a much-celebrated knight, and a mother who was one of the royal court’s noblewomen. What records there should have been of the dignitaries – for his family was among those trusted to send to other kingdoms like Zora’s Domain as ambassadors – were burnt in the ransacking of Hyrule Castle and the surrounding settlements. 

What remains to him are the sparse recollections from people who have heard snippets of the old kingdom from their elders, or from the long-lived but secretive Sheikah; as much as he appreciates any input to his past, he finds that most of them are hardly more useful than his own scattered memories. 

Link shrugs in the end, then – seemingly borne of desperation he doesn’t even realize being there – adds tentatively, _-I don’t know what to do, Urbosa. It’s doesn’t make sense…-_

 _“Yours is indeed a strange situation. Then again, nobody has quite the same life as you do.”_ The hand on his shoulder moves over to his chest, where his heart is – and where the spiritual orbs of the Champions happen to be absorbed into his body for each time he obtained them. 

…Was that it, then? That by receiving the Champions’ abilities, he is imbued with more than just their elemental affinities? Or, if there is indeed Gerudo blood somewhere in his lineage, this trait finally emerges in his generation by chance? And what if his healing during the century-long slumber has triggered his dormant bloodline somehow? 

Perhaps seeing the gamut of questions running unvoiced on his face, Urbosa says gently, _“That’s a mystery for another day, I suppose. It’s more important to assume you being similar enough to us and handle your situation in the best way.”_

 _That_ sounds mildly forbidding. _-…‘Handle my situation’, you say?-_

_“You must’ve known a little what entails in being a Sire, Rover and Dams, is that right?”_

_-I’ve been told a bit, yeah,-_ he signs but consciously leaves out the details of his informants. 

_“Then you have to know this also: The first season is almost always challenging, especially for someone coming late of age.”_

Link resists the urge to sign that he’s physically matured well before his enforced slumber; or worse, asks her if this is why some body parts of him suddenly decide to do a bit more growing now after all these time. 

Nevertheless, Urbosa seems to be aware of his concerns while his mind is busy trying to come up with denials or the kind of awkward questions that he has been trying to keep secret from Vilia and Greta. _“This is not because of any fault of yours. It happens to some of us as well, especially to someone experiencing great duress. If facing the Great Evil itself is not a strain on you, nothing else is.”_

Link is honestly unaware how desperately he needs to hear the assurance until he hears it said; that it feels as though he breathes a little easier and his gnawing worry that he is in someway diseased lifts off his chest. 

_-That’s… really good to hear.-_

_“The issue remains, though. Your body will be stabilized to it in time, but the first season may initiate randomly and last for a few days – maybe even weeks. I don’t know how strongly you will react when the rut comes over you when your scent is already this strong right now…”_ She says bluntly but not without sympathy. With her arms folded across her bare midriff, Urbosa throws her sight across the desert, back to the dimly lighted town of the Gerudo. _“Having a Hylian Sire may become a cause for chaos if this becomes a common knowledge. Sires will be tempted to fight you; Vai of all roles will be all too happy to try their luck with a voe Sire.”_

The mental image that comes into his mind is that of himself being smothered under a pile of bodies stacked as high as the Gerudo building. With each of them towers twice as high as Link, this is definitely not as pleasant as it sounds. If he doesn’t suffocate under all that weight, Link is ready to bet all of his Rupees that he will end up with a broken bone or three. 

_“What I’m saying is – Situations may easily get out of hands despite our best efforts.”_

He doesn’t think of himself as a liability – not very much, anyway – but he worries about Zelda’s standing. At this point, most of the other Gerudos are tolerant of the princess in their midst, but a young royalty with extinct lineage and non-existent kingdom is as fragile as it comes. Riju has spoken of her supports but the threat of instability remains, especially since they are still so freshly escaped from Calamity Ganon’s menace. Making himself a source of riot – however accidental that may be – is not going to do any good to Zelda’s reputations. 

They’ve had enough problem as it is with the Zoran elders to add another. 

_-So, what does Gerudo do when…-_ He fumbles for appropriate words; consciously awkward of the directness of it, _-…when they come into season?-_

 _“A_ vai _experiencing her first season is usually kept under watch of her families. Naturally, the easiest way to handle the heat or rut is to have a partner to sleep with.”_ Urbosa laughs as Link’s cheeks warm up tellingly, taking her time to get herself under control before continuing, _“But we usually consider it a mark of pride and strength for unmarried individuals to undergo it without resorting to physical touches. The perfumes are usually enough to stave off the worst of its pangs.”_

But the perfume is not a guarantee solution, as Urbosa has hinted and which Link tends to agree with – he won’t stop putting it on, of course, he just doesn’t think it all that reliable on a Hylian. A house arrest is simply impossible, with what being a knight of Princess Zelda entails. As for sleeping around… well, it sounds like the easiest way to blow his status as a Sire, which goes against everything his secrecy is trying to achieve. 

There is one way out that he can see that’s less costly, and much simpler to do. If what Greta was saying is true, his rut leaves its biggest mark on nearby Sires and in-season Dams. If that’s the case, the answer is literally out there, in the vast land of Hyrule beyond the Gerudo Desert. Out there, there are still wandering Gerudo women but he may go for days before seeing one; and most of them are the relatively indifferent Rovers anyway. 

In that instant, his mind is made. 

_-Urbosa, tell me how should I know when I’m clear of my rut,-_ he signs, his hands deftly moving through his signage; trying his best to quell the longing for the wilds in which he has spent so much time in his second life after the long slumber. _-I’ll leave Gerudo Town for a bit and come back when I’m back being… well, myself.-_

To link, that sounds like an infallible plan. What could possibly go wrong if he’s not there to be a trouble in the first place?


	4. Legacy

Link knows that the Sheikah tribe, while being mysterious and conservative, is not strictly confined to their village of Kakariko in the shadows of the Duelling Peaks. He also knows that many of them wander the land in pursuit of their own objectives – take Purah and Robbie, for example. So, really, there’s nothing really unthinkable with finding a Sheikah outside of their little village, if a slightly uncommon sight. 

That doesn’t stop him from being surprised, even more so that the Sheikah who has appeared at the entrance to Gerudo Town and requesting an audience with Princess Zelda is none other than Paya. Link is as eager as ever to take his leave of Gerudo Town and Sheikah massengers are not uncommon to them that Zelda can receive them herself, but Paya is a different case. In her new garb of Sheikah stealth armours rather than her customary shrine-keeper’s clothing, the girl is almost unrecognizable until she pulls down the white scarf covering the lower half of her face. However, her escorts – Sheikah similarly outfitted like Paya, but whom speak not a word ever since their arrivals – remain covered and unfamiliar to Link. 

“Grandmother told me to come. She said that – that I’m a good choice as any, and it’s time for me to see the world,” Paya says, struggling to quell her blush while avoiding her voice from dissolving into unintelligible murmurs. She gets redder still when trying to sneak a glance at Link – an attempt that falls as flat as an Eldin Ostrich crushed under Death Mountain’s volcanic rubbles, given that Link is standing right in front of her. 

Princess Zelda is with them as well. In her hand is a length of age-yellowed scroll written in old Sheikah runes interspersed with some complex diagrams that reminds Link of the interiors of the Sheikah shrines. Apparently, it contains information on the weird glowing pillars ringing the perimeter of Hyrule Castle, which appeared at the same time as Zelda’s first imprisonment with Calamity Ganon. Nobody really knows for sure what they were, but that may change if the runes in the scrolls can be decoded – which, unfortunately, will take some time, for the scroll is as long as Zelda is tall when unbound. 

The scroll is in fact the reason of Paya’s coming all the way from Kakariko to Gerudo Town, and a further reason for Link to stick around just a little longer to hear her story. 

“You said that this is confiscated?” Zelda says abruptly after Link has been sure that she has lost her mind in the scroll’s scrawled writing and intricate pictures. 

Poor Paya is startled out of her fidgeting. She pulls herself together with some efforts and says, “Yes, Your Highness. This was found in the keeping of a Yiga who has run afoul with the village’s guards after breaking into our library.” 

“A _Yiga,”_ Buliara hisses, venom evident in her tone as though pronouncing the tribe’s name as a particularly vulgar curse. 

Riju’s response is more tempered but her distaste is just as visible, in the severe frown and her dangerously narrowed eyes. “So, is it not enough with stealing the Thunder Helm, now they have found new interests to get their foul hands on? What is it that they come to seek with your clan?” 

“Grandmother – I mean, Elder Impa said that he might have tried to gather knowledge about Divine Beasts and the Ancient technology…” 

_-They’ve tried things like this once,-_ Link signs, diverting the ladies’ attentions from the increasingly flustered Paya. _-Some Sheikah shrines need some sort of a ball to open them. A Yiga stole the one kept in Kakariko before I tracked him down.-_

Paya shrinks further into herself but Link has no intention to mention her supposed ‘failure’ in protecting the artefact under her care. It’s not her fault that a Yiga decides to play dirty and steal that thing right under the Sheikahs’ collective noses. He hopes to give her assurance on this and steals a wink when Paya happens to look in his direction. She nearly squeals, quickly avoiding his eyes and looking resolutely on her feet; the little tug of a smile tells him that Link succeeds with his objective. 

Unlike Paya, Zelda is openly staring at him. “I’ve never heard about a Yiga theft in Kakariko.” Her eyebrows rise questioningly: _Why didn’t you tell me about this before?_

_-Was more worried about Calamity Ganon in Hyrule Castle. After that, it just slipped off my mind.-_

Zelda resists the urge to roll her eyes – he can see her struggles in the slight twitch of the muscles at the corner of her eyes – and settles with a resigned head-shaking. 

“I’m still concerned as to the Yiga’s purpose. I doubt they seek knowledge of Ancient technology out of academic curiousity.” 

“The Thunder Helm is not a Sheikah piece, yet they still tried to get their hands on it,” Riju says, though adding as if in afterthought, “…but it does serve to make approaching Vah Naboris easier, so there’s that.” 

It’s a shame that the Yiga died shortly after his capture, according to Paya. Alive, he could have been a source of information if properly coaxed – a possibility which must have not been lost to the other Yiga who had appeared out of nowhere in the Yiga’s customary puff of smoke; has slit the captive’s throat faster than the Sheikah guards could come to his defence and disappeared just as quickly, leaving his comrade’s body slumped in his own puddle of blood. 

“I-…I was not there to witness it, but the guards described it in detail…” 

The sight of her wincing every now and then has Link pitying Paya. He recalls the girl who was slumped on the floor and sobbing on the night of the Yiga’s theft of the Sheikah ball under her care, how she has gone quiet after her tears were dry… how morning finally saw her trying to speak again despite her voice going hoarse, wanting to thank Link for his company. 

Perhaps that’s why Impa is sending her out of Kakariko, in the hope of nurturing her further than Kakariko alone can offer. Link can see where Impa is coming from – Paya’s timidity is mostly borne out of her uncertainty of the world beyond Kakariko rather than any lacking of character. However, why Impa doesn’t send her to Purah, instead having her travel to Gerudo Town, is beyond him – which won’t be the first time the elderly Sheikah baffles him nor will it be the last. 

“And you have done well to inform us. Thank you. The handmaids will see to it that you and your escorts are properly treated as long as you stay here.” Paya bows, looking relieved at the prospect of rest. 

A woman – clearly one of the palace’s aforementioned handmaids – enters and is already moving to lead Paya into the adjoining dining room. The other kitchen staffs must be serving food for their guests while Riju and Zelda are meeting with Paya – Link can hear the faint, rushed patters of feet as they hurry about. He manages to glimpse the other Sheikahs waiting outside being bid by the Gerudo before they all disappear beyond the curtains. 

“Pardon me, but I think I ought to retire to my quarters for now. I think it will be hugely beneficial for us the sooner I can decode the runes –” 

Zelda is stopped halfway through her monologue when another Gerudo guard marches into the throne room, her strides purposeful though unhurried. No danger then, Link concludes, but still something that needs immediate attention. Muscles twitching to grab hold of the Master Sword’s hilt relaxes. Buliara too senses the lack of danger and holds her position as the newcomer guard approaches and gives her salute. 

“There is a Rito _voe_ outside the town’s walls. He says that he seeks Princess Zelda.” 

This induces a few round of eyebrow-raising from the ladies and a frown from Link. Rito people is not unheard of in Gerudo Town, some being regular visitors here, but requesting an audience with Princess Zelda here is a little random. Usually, messengers bearing news for her are Sheikah runners from Kakariko like Paya and her escorts. Few others know of Zelda and her knight’s whereabouts. 

“I will go see him,” Zelda says, and so she does. Link silently falls into step behind her and that spurs the others as well. 

Arriving at the gate a few moments later, it becomes instantly obvious who this mysterious Rito voe may be. Sky-blue feathers, a figure which far exceeds the leaner build common to Rito, though it’s decidedly a little strange seeing him without a musical instrument nearby… 

Kass, ever the gentleman that he is, bows gracefully at the sight of Princess Zelda and Lady Riju. Up close, it’s even weirder seeing him without the usual musician’s getup, instead donning an elaborate traditional clothing of the Rito, like the ones Teba wears. It also appears that he’s not completely unprepared, music-wise – a silver flute is strung to the belt around his waist, swaying as he straightens himself from his bow. 

“Forgive me for taking your time, ladies and gentleman. My name is Kass of the Rito Village. I come on behalf of my elder and the leader of the Gorons.” Though puzzling at first, Link supposes it’s reasonable for Bludo to employ the help of flight-capable messengers rather than sending a Goron on the long trek. Riju and Zelda arrive on similar conclusions, for they ask nothing and only wait for Kass to resume. “Two days ago, Vah Medoh, asleep since Calamity Ganon’s defeat, was awakened. The same thing happens to Vah Rudania of Death Mountain.” 

_“What?! But how –”_ Recalling herself, Zelda forcibly silences herself before she sounds anymore panicked. Already her cheeks turn pale – paler than her normally fair skin allows to the point of appearing almost white. “Are the villagers safe? What are the Divine beasts doing now? What happened prior to their… awakening?” 

“The Divine Beasts move a little but they generally stay where they are. The villagers, Ritos and Gorons alike, are unaffected when I departed to seek you and your knight.” 

“Very well. The lines on their bodies – what colours are they?” 

“Blue, Your Highness.” 

It’s an answer that relieves Zelda as much as it does to Link. He does not remember too much what happened when Calamity befell them, but Zelda’s unspoken fear of the Divine Beasts turning against them makes him wary of it as well. Though Link hasn’t seen any sign of Calamity corruption ever since Ganon’s banishment, Zelda always worries that there are traces unaccounted for to pose the threat. 

“Has there been anything done in response to the Divine Beasts’ movements?” 

“No, Your Highness. My elder is worried of upsetting Medoh unintentionally; it seems the Goron’s leader agrees with it. That is why I was sent, to ask for your advice on how best to proceed. It seems, as far as we can tell, the Divine Beasts only begun to move after interacting with a member of our tribe.” 

Zelda and Riju reflexively look at each other. Link could’ve sworn seeing their eyes light up as though reading the thoughts flashing in each other’s minds. 

“…Is it anyone amongst you, or a specific one for each Beast?” 

“They are the same person for each: Teba for Vah Medoh and, according to Chief Bludo, Vah Rudania only responds to Yunobo’s presence.” 

That very much confirms the ladies’ suspicions. Link’s as well, though it’s from Zelda’s mouth that it is spelled out loud. 

“The Divine Beasts,” Princess Zelda is saying, her trembling utterance matching the astonishment in her eyes, “they’ve found their new Champions, just like you and Vah Naboris, Riju.” 

All of the Divine Beasts, except for one. Instinctively, Link’s eyes are drawn towards the unseen horizon beyond on the other side encircling mountains of the Gerudo desert, beyond which lies the watery kingdom of the Zoras and the one Divine Beast entrusted to their care. No words have been forthcoming from Zora’s Domain, only silence that feels uncomfortably dismissive to the pleas of the Hylian princess. 

It catches Link by surprise that he should feel distinctly uncomfortable at the thought of losing the once-close ties he used to have with the place he used to think as his second home. 

  


* * * * *

  


_What is this_ is teetering at the tip of Sidon’s tongue but he swallows the words back into his throat, which constricts unpleasantly as though in protest. That sounds far too patronizing for his taste, not to mention the one he means to ask being Muzu. No matter how much he has grown, Sidon will never be too old to be scolded by the wizened councillor if ever the prince acts unbecoming of his status. 

Sidon is also perfectly capable of reading the title on the sealskin parchment which would have made the question rhetorical at best. A dozen names in fine calligraphy fills the surface, along with a few selected attributes. Beautiful names, all of them, undoubtedly belonging to fittingly beautiful individuals, all of whom are supposedly eligible candidates should Sidon feel inclined to – 

Sidon can feel his face getting warmer by the second. The matters of the River Run are truly getting out of hand when it comes to his status as a bachelor. 

“Muzu –” But the old Zora is holding up a hand that effectively cuts off Sidon’s words as if it has been clamped on his mouth. 

“I know what you are thinking, my prince, and frankly, you can pretend that it has never arrived in your hand.” When Sidon continues to look as hopelessly bewildered as when Muzu arrives in Sidon’s study with the parchment in hand, the councillor sighs. “I may be old but I am not deaf. I could hear your opinion on taking a partner during the River Run just fine.” 

Muzu looks as though all has been settled when in fact, even more questions are popping into Sidon’s suddenly cramped skull. “Why give me this,” he blurts, a little too fast to intone it as a question. 

“Because the council insists on it, and the King and I agree to at least comply simply to silence their yammering.” Muzu is huffing now, not unlike when he first saw Link in King Dorephan’s presence. “That doesn’t mean refusal is not an option.” 

Sidon’s tail, drooping just a few seconds ago, begins to sway with relief. Muzu huffs again, clearly disapproving his lack of self-control but decides against admonishment, seeing that they are in company of only each other. 

Not that Sidon is ever good with moderation in the first place. 

Still, looking at these names, names without clear pictures of the faces which bear them… Sidon can’t help but wonder about these people. Far from being a romantic curiousity, Sidon instead feels like it is a failing on his part as the Domain’s Prince for not recognizing the majority of them. 

“…Who are they? Do they know that their names are on this list at all?” 

“Close kin of the council members, mostly. A few of them are already trained as royal entertainers, just in case… I have been assured that they are well aware of the offer, and that they do not ask to be married should you wish only for surrogates for a future heir.” 

With great difficulty, Sidon manages to ignore his part in the scheme and focuses solely on the names, some of which he really does remember seeing around the palace as Muzu continues ‘introducing’ the more supposedly prominent individuals. Traditionally, they would have been companions to members of the royal family if not for his father’s peculiar fidelity. That, and the late queen being capable of producing children on her own means that King Dorephan’s courts have concubines only in names when in fact, they more or less function as handmaidens and housekeepers. 

“I… ah, I see.” He does – specifically, of him following in his father’s footsteps and ride out whatever the River Run will be throwing in his direction on his own. 

“Do tell if you should have a change of heart,” Muzu says, his dry tone clearly speaking his doubt that this will be the case anytime soon. “In the meantime, I will tell the council that you are still weighing in on your options.” 

That has an uncomfortable tinge of self-importance to Sidon’s ears but he trusts Muzu to handle the situation appropriately. Royalty he may be; Sidon also knows that it is not worth the trouble to offend the proud council members should he make an outright rejection of the choices sent in his way. 

He watches as Muzu ambles his way out of the study until he can see no more of the old Zora; then, carefully rolling the parchment, he stows it at the bottommost stack of papers which he needs signing soon. The best thing to do is to chuck it straight into the river and let it be lost in the rapids, but Sidon feels like it will be an overreaction. Of course, there’s also the question that anything, _anything at all,_ can happen that he may end up wishing for the insight to have kept it… 

The River Run is an unknown country in Sidon’s mind, something which he is not really prepared to venture into just yet. 

In the meantime, Sidon happily obliges to be among the guards responsible for the waterways’ safety during the River Run. It will not do to have Lizalfos running around the place and interrupting what should be a happy occasion. Both the king and Muzu are approving of his decision, saying that his duties may prove enough of a distraction to get him through. The past few days certainly have been hectic, moreso than he expects. Choosing guards to station along the river course is already a challenge. Married individuals, or at least those in a stable relationship, are less likely to go off making chase on their own, according to the priests. Along with his usual daily patrols, all the meticulous planning and discussion with the officers easily take the better part of his daily routine now. 

He likes it honestly. If Sidon can keep up the momentum for the estimated week-long period of the River Run, he may just pass it through being too occupied to be swayed into joining. 

Sidon sighs, meaning to retrieve the parchment waiting for him on the table and carry on with his day. However, his hand pauses just when the tip of a claw touches the smooth sealskin as a thought occurs to him. It is not the most convenient of time but at the moment, Sidon _is_ experiencing a lull in activities. Not for long, for in a few hours one thing or another is bound to call for his attention, but in the meantime, that should be enough time for Sidon to visit his sister. 

He doesn’t need much self-coaxing before he finds himself walking in the direction of the central courtyard. Guards salute him when they meet him; the palace staffs give their greetings or bow as he passes. He responds in kind but his mind is already at his destination before he arrives there himself, looking up at the memorial statue of Lady Mipha towering over him. 

He can imagine, with perfect clarity afforded by memories of his sister, how she would have responded as if he is in front of the real flesh-and-blood Mipha. _You are a little early today, aren’t you?_

“I guess I am. There’s not much thing to do right now… and I don’t know if I’ll have the time to come visit at the end of the day.” 

Nobody is roaming the courtyard, so Sidon feels a little at ease indulging in his little secret fantasy. They are either too far away to have a chance at listening to their prince holding a one-sided conversation or are too occupied with their partners to mind his presence. It strikes him as odd for a moment or two – he’s always has to be careful, lest someone or other may overhear and think oddly of Sidon – until he realizes that the place is much emptier than usual. 

_Oh, right,_ he muses, remembering the discussions he’s had with Bazz just yesterday, _They must be down at the rivers at this hour._

“They’re feeling it, each in their own time. ‘The Call of the River Run’, Muzu calls it when I asked him about it. it’s like they don’t want to get out of the water for too long,” he whispers to the silently waiting statue, Mipha’s kindly expression in life now frozen forever on the stone-carved face. Questions seem to be etched into the smooth surface and gentle lines in her sculpted expression. 

_How are you feeling now, Sidon?_

“I… I don’t feel anything different, myself. I’m… I guess I’m just afraid about what will happen to me when the time comes. I don’t know what I should be prepared for, and how.” 

He lets out a giggle, not a boisterous laugh as he usually does, but a restrained sound as if being too loud will shatter this fragile connection with his sister. It feels a little silly, usually in retrospect when he floats in his pool waiting for sleep to take him away, but he always cherishes this little freedom to talk his heart out. 

“Muzu must be worried too, if for different reasons. He came this morning with a… a list of _candidates,_ if you can believe that. I refuse for now, but… I keep that list around. I…” He sighs, feeling unbelievably childish but relishing it all the same. “If it were you, what you would’ve said? Would you accept, just for this time?” 

The Mipha of his imagination, alive in the statue, remains uncomfortably silent this time. It is not a situation neither Sidon nor Mipha ever has been involved with and his imagination draws blank on her supposed response. 

It comes too close to breaking the fantasy of a still-living sister talking to him, so Sidon changes the topic faster than a heron spearing the fish it has been eyeing hungrily. 

“Forgive me if I seem a little hurried, dear sister. I just can’t spend my time as freely as I used to. Everybody is occupied with the River Run these days. There seems to be more Lizalfos to be aware of too. The guards and I are struggling with the patrols and combing the riverbanks for ambushers.” 

As days pass, words he whispers at Mipha’s feet become shorter, less refined, urgency tainting his once heartfelt outpouring. He tries his best, bringing shells Mipha once gave him, shining gemstones he found lying on the riverbed or other pretty reminders of the brief childhood he has had with Mipha, but still it feels far too rushed if he truly wishes to honour his beloved sister. 

“Many of the guards are around my age too. They’re asking leave to go to the rivers with the others. We’ve tried to make do with what we have… but our numbers are getting short. Bazz won’t stop reminding me to take it easy after I tried to cover the shortage and ended up fatigued on the next day. He really reminds me of your advices when I used to train swimming up the waterfalls.” 

_Not without reasons. You know, you are always so reckless._

“But what good is a prince if he cannot help his people? Unlike you, I can’t help bring back their strength or soothe away the aches. I just have to be strong for the others.” 

His ordinary hands have never shown any hint of the glow that surrounds Mipha’s whenever she calls upon her healer’s talents. There is no reason for him to see it now, despite how badly he wishes for exactly that thing when he brings up his limbs in front of his face, turning it this way and that in hope of catching the minutest sparkle. 

“I could never understand how Link manages it, all by himself. It couldn’t have been easy but I’ve never heard of him complaining. Or _see_ him complaining, as it were. I know it sounds irresponsible and tactless on my part, but I wish he was here with us now. When he and I were fighting to quell Vah Ruta… we were seamless, as though we are one.” 

It is a memory which he recalls with amazing ease despite the frenetic nature of their struggles: The exhilarating rush of adrenaline pulsing through his body as he raced around the Divine Beast, feeling the new weight on his back and the firm grips of Hylian hands on his shoulder-blades vanished when Link took to ascend the waterfall and struck Ruta’s orbs, Sidon keeping careful track of Link as he glided back down so that Sidon could reach him before Ruta’s attacks could. It was nerve-wracking while he was up there, out of reach of helping if anything was to befall him… but when he was with Sidon, it was an entirely different matter. From the corner of his eyes, Sidon managed just enough glimpses of the arrows let loose and the glow of mysterious Sheikah sorcery he used on those icy projectiles to know that he could put his trust in the Hylian to keep them safe. 

He lights up suddenly with a small, close-mouthed smile that bears little resemblance to the enthusiastic grin he throws to people looking his way. 

“He was such a sight, Mipha. Wearing that very same Zora Armour you had crafted for him, he could have been mistaken for a Zora himself from afar! A rather short one, perhaps, but he is… _amazing._ I was so proud and grateful for him; more than I thought I would be, that I felt like my Zoran thanks were still not enough to do justice.” 

And he has never been more grateful for the day when he met the Hero of Hyrule in person. 

When he saw the figure stepping out of the gloom of rain from his perch high above Inogo Bridge, it was like a scene from the fairy tales his sister and caretakers used to tell him. Like a legend made real. A hooded figure who, when talked to by the much-taller Sidon, had looked up and revealed an unlikely visage. There was something about him that intrigued Sidon even then – a face seemingly too innocent for the bows, arrows and blades he came with. A sharp, wary gaze of an old hunter from eyes like a pair of the most brilliant Zora’s Sapphire. The taut stance of someone who has seen incredible dangers and expected them lurking in every corner. Then, there was also his _name._

‘Link’ is an unusual name but Sidon was reluctant to believe his more far-fetched fancies when he had a more pressing problem to see to, until King Dorephan banished all doubts out of the windows. 

Sheer force of self-discipline allows Sidon to pull himself out of the pleasant walk down the memory lane, and into the real world. He would have liked to remain a little longer but the growing warmth of sunlight on his hide reminds him that morning is slowly crawling its way towards afternoon, and that he has his duties to see through. 

“Dear Mipha, forgive me. My mind wanders when I am in front of you… and now, I must leave.” As always, the prince feels an urge to just… stay. Stay and talk as he could never talk to anyone else. Sidon sighs, wondering when he will have the strength to move past such an immature wish. 

The statue seems to say, _Go, and carry Nayru’s light with you always._

It was what he heard Mipha said to Zoras coming to her for her blessing, from merchants and travellers seeking to travel outside of the Domain, to soldiers about to embark on expeditions. Sidon certainly needs one for himself now. 

“Thank you.” He reaches out with his hand, laying it on the jagged carving of water splashes surrounding the statue’s base. “I will return again tomorrow if I can.” 

The usual promise spoken, Sidon steels himself for the day ahead of him and turns his back on the silent lady. Beyond the twisting, luminous corridors crisscrossing the place, Sidon sees the glimmering surfaces of water surrounding the Domain; a watery sanctuary to his people. All along the rivers beyond the safety of these waters, there will be Zoras already succumbing to the call of the river run – and it will be up to Sidon and the guards to keep the way clear for them as they chase each other through the cool depths… 

Sidon leaps, tucking his limbs close as the waves swallow him in his dive, and races off along the waterways in search of any sign of potential danger.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been wanting to try writing ABO fanfics for a while, so I guess this fanfic finally initiates me into it. I'm sorry if this story becomes weird, I'm not used to writing about this. 
> 
> Comments and suggestions are welcomed, and if you have any question, feel free to ask away.


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